Love is Suicidal
by Veralena
Summary: She killed herself the day he said 'I love you'....to someone else. HPxGWxDM sexy love triangle, Post HBP.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Ok, I accidentaly deleted the story, so now I have to retype all those autor's notes and disclaimers. urgh! well i got the time to write some more chappies. so hopefuly chapter 3 and 4 will be up today and maybe chapter 5 too! anyways the first chapter of this story is really short, excuse me for that, but the second chapter is a lot longer hopefully. this story takes place post HBP, so there are spoilers galore, but i'm pretty sure evryone's read the book by now...

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

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**Chapter 1**

The door burst open. Three wizards stood in the doorway, wands held out in front of them. They looked at each other with fear, for what was in front of them was deadly. One of the wizards stepped carefully forward. He grimaced as his feet stepped down on the red liquid beneath him. He looked carefully around the place. The furniture was wrecked, and the walls were scratched. The other two wizards stood in the doorway, still afraid to tread in the pool of blood that lay before them.

In the midst of all the red blood, lay a figure. One of the wizards turned it around, and found a woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Her flaming red hair matched the blood around her; it was strewn across her freckled face. Her eyes were closed, and her face was lightly splattered with red.

One of the wizards eyes trailed down her limp figure to her hand, which he now noticed, was holding a small silver knife. The wizard looked down at the frail clutch around the black handle of the dagger. He looked at her other arm, which was currently lying on her abdomen. He turned her arm around, and found her wrist slit open.

The third wizard stepped forward, and found a piece of parchment lying folded on the ground beside the girl. He picked it up and opened it. He noticed that it was some sort of letter, so he started reading it.

_I met you when I was young_

_And from then on, I knew you were the one_

_We steadily grew, as did our friendship_

_Our friends teased us, but our companionship remained steadfast_

_But as we grew, I realised_

_That there was more than I had seen_

_From that day on, I had written my death warrant_

_For I didn't see the problems that would arise in loving you_

_Soon I gave it to rest, and thought no more about you_

_And we became friends once more_

_But I did not realise, that the tables had turned_

_For you loved me, yet I was unaware of it_

_With my inattentiveness, you faltered_

_And left me alone_

_But alas! I had fallen for you once more_

_And I realised how much you meant to me_

_Then came the fatal day_

_When "the words" stumbled out_

_I had broken our friendship, our secret connection_

_You turned away, and I was left alone in my misery_

_I would watch you with others_

_And would jealously despise anyone you neared you_

_For I was still in the embers of your ignorance_

_Through the years, we have grown, we have left_

_Yet my love remains the same_

_Never shall it change_

_Never shall it die_

_For I love you

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_

Harry stood under the willow tree, watching from a distance as all the people who had gathered in the graveyard bid a quiet farewell to Ginny. He felt tears poking at the corners of his eyes as he watched them slowly lower the case into the ground. He remembered her; her fiery red hair, her beautiful green eyes that always mimicked his own, her petal-pink, curved lips that never failed to flash him a sweet smile. Was she really gone?

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**A/N:** did you like it? I think i wrote the poem one night when i was depressed or something. either way, it's not too good, but it's only in the story because it matched so perfectly with the plot. well good or bad, let me know!!!

**starlite rose**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** The second chapter is much more filled with stuff then the first one. Anyways enjoy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

**

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**

Chapter 2

"So, that was me. Yup, Ginny Weasley. Like it? Well, I'm dead, so can't say much about that. It's not too fun being dead. And it's not fun killing yourself either. 'Cause you get to feel all that pain, you know? It's so much better dying in your sleep. Although I wouldn't have a clue. Unfortunately I didn't have the good fortune to die in my sleep.

So, anyways, you must be wondering how I came to be here, dead? Curious? Well, unfortunately, mine was an unrequited love story. It might have ended a lot happier, but, being the fiery, red-tempered Weaslette that I am, I had to take my decision quick and fast.

The whole thing started about two years ago. I was in my sixth year, and Harry, my green toad-eyed crush was in his seventh. Yeah, we'd dated last year, but he'd finished it way too soon. Apparently he had to "go save the world". Yeah, okay. I'd told him I understood, but under my teary eyes, I was heart-broken. And angry too! How dare he just dump me without a solid reason!

I got over my anger a lot quicker than my sadness. I spent the entire summer holed up in my room, and it got worse when Ron started pitying me.

"Don't worry, Gin. He's my best friend; I'll make him see sense..."

Ya, sure.

A couple of days later, Ron invited Harry over to our house, saying that he just wanted to hang out with him, but deep down I knew he wanted us to get back together. After all, Fred and George were making life hell for him the moment they'd found out he'd been digging in Hermione's knickers. Personally I would have loved to join in also, but I decided Ron was having enough trouble as it was. Mum was going crazy with Bill's wedding to Phlegm and making Ron extra hard. I wasn't too excited about the wedding anymore than I was the summer before, but I had to be seen smiling, since it was my favourite brother's wedding.

Harry arrived at 2 p.m. that afternoon. My face blanched when I heard his deep voice resonating over the house as he and Ron laughed. Hermione was going to come over the next day for the rest of the summer also.

"Let's get your stuff upstairs, mate!" came Ron's voice.

I heard the creaking of the stairs as they steadily came closer and closer to my bedroom. I lifted my head from my elbows and listened attentively. Then, sensing that they would probably open the door to see if I was in, I decided that they might as well find me in a more respectable position. I jumped quickly out of my chair and tiptoed over to bookcase. Pulling out about ten books or so, I lay them carelessly on the bed. Then, I picked one up and placed my hand with the book close to the bookshelf, ready to put it in when they opened the door.

I heard the creak as they stepped on the floorboards of the landing in front of my bedroom. And then I heard Ron knock on my door.

"Hey, Gin? You in?"

I lightly cleared my throat. "Um..."

_Oh no! Voice too cutesy! Lower voice...lower voice..._

"Um...yes."

I slowly pushed the book into its proper shelf as I heard the squeak of the door. Ignoring them, but seeing a tall dark form near Ron in my peripheral vision, I took another book from my bed and placed it in the bookshelf.

"Gin, Harry's here."

"Oh yeah?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm but cursing myself as I realised I was reddening.

Finally I convinced myself to look up. Immediately, Harry looked away. I gave him a quick once over. Still the same, basically. The same jet-black hair, same jade green eyes. I felt a jolt in my stomach when I realised that it had been me who'd kissed those perfect lips, who'd been enveloped in those arms of steel against an iron chest. It'd been me who'd run a hand through that unruly hair, but now...it was all gone.

"Hi, Harry," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Hey, Ginny," he replied, finally raising his eyes. The second our eyes met, we both looked away.

"Well" said Ron, breaking the silence and reminding me that he was still in the room, "we should go unpack your stuff."

"'K," I said. "Bye."

They said nothing more and left the room. I pretended to not notice them leaving by continuing to place the books in the shelves. As soon as I heard the creak of the door close, I dropped the book back on the bed.

I walked over to the other side of my bed and plopped down onto it. Tiredly, I closed my eyes. Was this how the entire summer was going to be? I shuddered, thinking of how horrific it would be to be running into Harry all over the place: the kitchen, the den, the bathroom...

And suddenly I was launched into a vision. I was in the fields, and there was Harry coming towards me, smiling. He came over to me, coming so very close to my face. He lowered his mouth to mine. He feell of his soft lips on mine made me swoon in sensation. I ran my hand through his hair when abruptly it all disappeared. Fog clouded my vision and then suddenly, I sat up, breathing heavily.

What had I just seen?

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**A/N:** like it? not like it? let me know!!!

**starlite rose**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Ginny's my favourite character to write about because for some reason, j.k. rowling doesn't really describe her all that much. i like putting in my own descriptions about her personality, and that's why i love writing about her. anyways this chapter is so far the longest, but i have a feeling my chapters are all going to start getting longer. enjoy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"I had no idea what the rest of the summer was going to be like. But I knew that a summer with Harry after what we'd been through the last year would be horrifying. I shuddered when I remembered that Harry was only a floor above.

It had only been a few days since Harry had arrived, and I was suddenly let out of a number of things. Since Hermione was also here, it was rather annoying having to go out of the room whenever Harry, Ron and Hermione wanted to "discuss" something. Something to do with Harry and his stupid "battle", obviously.

I was surprised at how much they didn't trust me. How could they not let me in? I had the right to know what was going on with Voldemort! How could they expect me to just stay quiet? And what about on and Hermione? Had they ever been held captive by Voldemort himself? I don't think so…

The summer was turning out worse than I thought. I couldn't walk across a hallway with Harry there without getting my stomach in twisted knots. We rarely spoke anywhere. I knew I should have gotten over it, but I wanted to know what exactly had happened to make him so suddenly secretive. I knew he'd found something out. I knew he'd told Hermione and Ron about it, but what exactly was it?

Meanwhile full-time preparations were going on for Bill's wedding. Fleur was to come the day after, with about a ton of luggage. Poor Bill was still trying to adjust to his sudden furriness, but he was handling it okay. I'd talked to him a few days back about his wedding, and he'd told me he was excited and he promised he'd be up in a week. But seeing his pallid face and the circles under his eyes, I didn't think he'd be all right in time.

"Hey, Gin," I heard a voice say behind me. I was in my room, writing a letter to Dean (we'd become friends again), and I'd just got up to go find Ron for Pigwidgeon.

I was surprised to see Harry standing at my door. I could feel my heart thumping, the sound reaching my ears.

"Oh…um, hi," I managed, trying to calm myself but not succeeding.

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he said, and I could tell he was having as much difficulty was me to speak.

"Oh, well…"

He said nothing, but walked over to the bed and sat down. I bit my lip and sat down beside him, making sure to keep a lot of space between each other.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to be casual.

"I...wanted to tell you the reason I broke up with you," he rushed. He looked shocked for a second that he'd just said that, but he seemed to regain composure in a minute.

"Oh…well, go ahead, then," I said.

"I…can't be with you, Ginny," he started, and I felt my insides squeeze together in dismay.

"Last year, I found out that…Voldemort isn't trying to take over everything just by himself. The reason he can't be killed is because he's using Horcruxes." Then, seeing the confused expression on my face, he continued. "A horcrux is when you split your soul in two and put one of them into an inanimate object. And I think he did this six times. Dumbledore told me all this last year, and I'm sure he's right."

"So…how does this have to do with -,"

"Voldemort is obviously trying to kill me. I don't know how many times he's tried and failed. But he just might get it any one of these days. And he'll do that by luring me into his lair, wherever the hell that is."

"But how can he lure you? He can't put a spell on you or anything."

"When I was with you, Ginny, you were the thing that I cared about the most." I blushed and looked down. "If he ever found that out, he'd probably kidnap you and make me come after you. Who knows how much you'd be tortured in the process. I don't want you to be hurt. I don't want anything to happen to you." His voice broke.

I knew I was going to get teary. I suppressed as much as I could and inhaled.

"Nothing will happen to me, Harry. Why can't we just -,"

"It's not like that, Gin!" he interrupted. "You think Voldemort isn't dangerous? You don't think he'll kidnap you again? Well guess what? If I hadn't broken up with you, he would have bloody TAKEN YOU AWAY!"

I stared at him in complete awe. Wow. He'd become a man and I hadn't even known it. He'd stood up as he was yelling and he looked so hot…all mad. I tried to hold back a hesitant smile, but he was pacing my room angrily. Suddenly he stopped and turned around the look at me.

"Do you understand?" he asked in a much lighter voice than I'd expected.

"Yes," I replied, in a dry voice, my smile slowly fading.

"So…I wanted to tell you that…and that I'm sorry." His face was apologetic.

"For what?" and I couldn't help putting in a bit of roughness.

He swallowed. "For breaking up with you the way I did. It was…not right. I thought you'd understood, I'd thought the moment was right. But later I realised that I was wrong. But…I hope you understand now, and I'm hoping that we can…"

My face lit up. Was he actually insinuating that we get back together?

"That we can what?" I whispered. His jade green orbs looked into mine. I could feel myself starting to blush. The corners of my lips went up without my accord. He was trying to say that we should become a couple again! This was too good to be true!

"…I was hoping that we can move on."

My grin faded quicker than a dead fly. I could feel myself starting to shiver. Tears welled in my eyes. I felt anger bubble up inside of me. Never in my life had I felt so stupid, and furious, and like a throw away toy. I felt used. I'd loved him so much. I'd given up so much for him. And now he was saying that we should move on?

And looking into those emerald eyes that I'd always loved, I raised my hand and slapped him on the cheek.

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**A/N:** ooo, ginny's mean. i love writing arguments. you can always put in so much drama. well anyways please review!!

**starlite rose**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **i am awaiting some reviews people!!!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

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**Chapter 4**

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his expression, not wanting to know what he was feeling. I immediately regretted my actions. How could I have just slapped the guy that I loved? He was still sitting in front of me, on his knees, his face so close to mine, and yet I felt like I was miles away. I could still hear his breath, starting to slow. I imagined his face was probably red, especially on his left cheek. I kept my eyes closed, and could feel my tears pushing their way past my eyelids and beginning to drip down my face. I was embarrassed. I didn't want Harry to see tears falling down my face, but I'd lost the energy to move my hand and wipe them away.

I heard the floorboards creak as he got up and slowly walked away. And as soon as I heard the sound of the door closing with a tight snap, I fell on my bed and let the tears come. I don't know how long I stayed there for, but I knew that I'd probably shed enough tears to fill a swimming pool.

"Ginny, dear! If you don't come down this minute I'm going to make Fleur choose your dress!"

I heard Mum's voice ring throughout the house, coming from downstairs. It had been about two days after I'd attacked Harry, and I was feeling _bad._ I'd ruined everything that we'd had. But I had to continue with everything. This was my house, not his. I had a right to do whatever I wanted. And he'd have to abide by that.

"Coming, Mum!"

I ran downstairs and found the entire dingy living room covered in flowers. There were blood red roses on the mantelpiece, then creamy white roses, bright yellow roses, pink roses, daisies, irises, violets and every other type of flower in every colour imaginable. There were also wedding cards strewn all over the floor and different shades of ribbons everywhere. In the midst of all this paraphernalia were Mum, Fleur and Gabrielle, sitting on the chairs that had been brought from the kitchen. There were dresses that were on other chairs, and on a table was Fleur's wedding dress.

"Wow, Mum, is all this going to be cleared up by lunchtime?"

"Oh! Ginny! You're here! Good, I've been calling you for the past ten minutes!"

I looked at Fleur. Her and her obnoxiously pretty face. She threw her long, silvery hair back with a hand and sent me a "Why-are-you-late-this-is-my-wedding-we're-planning-here" sort of glare. Ignoring her, I looked over at Gabrielle. I hadn't met her before but she seemed to be quite nice. Judging by her height, even though she was sitting, she looked around eleven years old.

"Hi," I said, walking towards them, and looking at Gabrielle.

"Oh, bonjour! I am Gabrielle," she said, smiling. Her face was quite unlike her beautiful elder sister; hers was a bit chubby, and her blond hair was more golden than silvery, it was also short, to reach up to her shoulders.

"I'm Ginny," I said, returning the smile. "And how are you, Fleur?" I asked, turning to Fleur.

"Oh, I am quite fine, thank you. I was 'oping that per'aps you could tell us your measurements for ze dresses."

"What colour are they?" I asked, sitting down on an empty chair.

The next half an hour passed extremely slowly. Fleur had chosen pink initially, but had decided that it clashed with my hair (she also mentioned that she had decided this quite a while ago), and then she had decided on gold. Gabrielle and I tried on dress after dress, trying to find a style that would please Fleur, but she couldn't decide. In the end, it was a sleeveless dress with a satin flower stitched onto the hip of the dress. After that Fleur tried on her dress, telling Mum all the adjustments that were needed, such as the sleeves which she wanted removed and the train to be longer.

They chose some flowers after that, and Fleur decided on pink roses. Then came the cards, and then finally, we were done. To my horror, as I was going up the stairs, Harry came down. I tried sliding past him by avoiding his eye, but the damn staircase was so narrow that our eyes met. I felt electricity course through me as I felt my chest graze his and his breath unfurl onto my face. My lips involuntarily opened, but I was headstrong, and shoved past him.

"…and I was thinking of making Ginny and Harry one of the couples…"

I stopped abruptly. Harry apparently hadn't heard, as his voice was carrying from downstairs. And it was Bill and Ron's voice.

"I really don't think that'd be a good idea…"

I tiptoed across the hall to peek through the little sliver of the room that I could see. Bill was resting on his pillows and Ron was sitting beside him on a chair, helping himself to the pumpkin pasties that were on Bill's side table.

"Why not?" asked Bill.

"Well…they've sort of started to…"Ron clearly looked uncomfortable on the subject, "well, what I mean is, they're not really acknowledging each other anymore."

"It's THAT bad?" asked Bill, aghast.

"Yup," replied Ron solemnly.

"Well, I have no other choices left," said Bill as-a-matter-of-factly, "Fleur wants Gabrielle and I got you. I wanted Charlie to be part of it too, but he says he's too busy with all the other stuff. I can't obviously stick you with Ginny 'cause you're related, so you'll _have_ to go with Gabrielle and Harry will _have_ to go with Ginny."

"Can't I go with Hermione?" whined Ron.

"No," replied Bill compellingly. "My bride wants Gabrielle and she'll get Gabrielle. She's not too fond of Hermione and Ginny but she prefers Ginny over Hermione."

"Why?" asked Ron shrewdly.

"Who knows, little bro'. All this girl's stuff is Greek to me," said Bill abstractly, starting to pull out a Quidditch magazine from below his bed.

I raised my head back up from the open door. Oh, perfect. And now I'll actually have to talk to him, and he'll have to escort me, and everyone will see us together, and we're going to have to look like a couple! I felt myself becoming pale just at the thought.

I thought I was going to go crazy with all these talks about marriage preparations. And then suddenly seven words flashed across my mind.

_Harry James Potter weds_ _Ginevra Molly Weasley._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was the day of the wedding, and I was scared to death. What the hell? Why did it have to be me? Why did it have to be me and Harry? Why not someone else? I heaved a heavy sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Well, I thought, if I had to be around Harry, even if it was for about 20 minutes, let me at least look nice.

The gold dress was painfully uncomfortable, especially in the waist, since Fleur had decided to put a charm on it. I looked like I had a 5 inch waist. Great. Other than that, my hair was in cascading curls for the first time, my eyes had been darkened considerably, and my lips were now blood red. I had to admit, I looked nice. But maybe it just wasn't enough for him.

I hadn't seen Fleur since she'd decided to lock herself up in her bedroom with two of her French friends. They had been chattering on and on in French for about five hours and could be heard from outside her door. I was with Gabrielle and Mum, sitting in front of a dresser, still steadily applying foundation. Mum had decided to wear a reasonable red dress for the wedding of her son. Gabrielle looked equally nice, wearing gold like me and her hair up in a loose but elegant bun. Mum turned to look my way.

"Ginny, dear, could you go up and call Fleur down? The ceremony's about to start any minute!"

I grumbled and reluctantly walked up the stairs to Fleur's bedroom. I stopped just outside the door to overhear what was going on inside.

_« Ah, il est bien beau! »_

_« Vraiment, Fleur? »_

_« T'est idiote? Il était un dieux avant son transformation! »_

_« Il est encore beau, Geneviève! »_

_« Il a des cheveux longs, oui? »_

_« C'est encore très attirant! »_

_« Si tu le dit... »_

I knocked on the door at this point. Some shuffling sounds were heard, the door opened a tiny bit, and a little bit of Fleur's face and two other new faces were seen. One of Fleur's tittering friends had a long, pale face with large, navy eyes and the other one had a pig snout and piggy little eyes. I think she even snorted, although at the moment I was so annoyed I'm not sure whether I imagined it or not.

"Oui?"

"Well, the ceremony's about to start, so you should get down," I said bluntly.

The two other girls exchanged glances and giggled. I couldn't understand what was so funny so I just shrugged.

"We will be down in a moment," said Fleur majestically. "After all, ze wedding cannot take place wiz'out _moi_!"

And with that she closed the door with a snap, right in my face.

I ran downstairs, trying desperately not to trip over my dress, all the while thinking of all the ways I could drown Fleur without Bill knowing.

Ten minutes later, Fleur had miraculously managed to come downstairs, but I still hadn't seen her in her dress. I suppose she was waiting to make a "mind-bloweeing" entrance. The wedding was about to start; the few musicians who had been hired by Fleur's parents were blasting some trumpets, and the people's murmuring were starting to die down.

It was a rather nice day for a wedding. The sun was bright and high in the sky, there was an absence of clouds, and the trees were swaying in the light wind. The wind factor seemed to dismay some of Bill's mates (they were probably hoping to catch a show from Fleur's girlfriends). I hadn't seen Bill since I'd caught a glance of him and his mates sliding into his bedroom the night before, swaggering and shouting in drunken intoxication. Bill's friends were apparently at ease with his furriness, and I was glad it was so. I felt so bad for Bill. Poor guy. All hairy, and with a bride to knock off the next Superwitch off her pedestal!

Suddenly I was ushered into line behind Gabrielle and in front of one of Fleur's friends (the long-faced one). We were opposite the guys on the other side, who I noticed were looking nervous. I couldn't glimpse Harry because one of Bill's huge friends was blocking the way, but I was sure I could see a bit of black hair in contrast with Ron's red head. The audience settled down. Mum was sitting up front and looking on the verge of tears already. Dad was just finishing talking to Fleur's dad, a super tall, super evil-looking man. He had blond hair and was rolling his eyes at Dad. His wife was also blond, with even longer hair than Fleur's and huge gray eyes. They both looked around, as did the audience. The priest was standing in the front, looking all solemn.

The flower girl, some tiny girl who I had been told was Fleur's mother's sister's son's daughter started prancing forwards and throwing flowers at the audience. They all "awwed" but then the girl's aim hit some in the face, which stole their smiles. And then suddenly Gabrielle strode forwards. Ron followed. They stopped, she grabbed his arm, and they walked forwards. Eeek. Ron looked funny. I had to remember to make fun of him later.

I was thinking of what I should do to him when I realised that I was up next. I turned to face Harry on the other side, and then…I died.

He looked…like Harry. Chiselled body hidden by dark suit, hair gelled to perfection (messy and mussed – just to my liking), and a crooked smile playing at his lips. I practically had a fit right there. How could he entrance me like this? I was supposed to be angry with him. He was supposed to hate me for slapping him. But there he was, standing in his perfection, all attractive. It wasn't fair. I ran a hand over my head to check that my curls were correctly in place, and also ran a hand over my dress, smoothing out any creases. I readjusted the flowers in my hand and then, I stepped up.

He took my cue and strode forwards also. I tried to look away from him but he'd unfortunately captured his gaze with mine. I thought I would trip on my dress, but thank the lord, I didn't. I walked forward, weaved my arm through his, just as we'd rehearsed, and then we both walked on. I tried not looking at the audience and plastered a fake smile on my face. Actually, my brain was having a little trouble functioning at the moment, so it was best I didn't look at anything at all. My blood pulsed in my veins, and I could myself blushing ridiculously. Oh god, Harry was two centimetres away from me! _Grrr_! What was wrong with me?

I stopped, left his arm (and immediately I could feel coldness seep through me) and went and stood next to Gabrielle.

I barely paid attention to the rest of the wedding. I did manage to focus on Bill standing next to his tuxedo-wearing mates. Bill looked pretty good. He seemed to have shaved off as much hair from his face as was possible. And then the piano (when did that get here?) started playing the traditional song all by itself. Suddenly Fleur appeared at the back of the audience. And I think every guy's mind went blank at this point. Fleur was stunning, no doubt, but she had fish for brains.

Her dress was all tulle and lace and satiny and silky and shiny (the diamonds on it, not the material). I don't think I've ever seen so much on a single piece of clothing. It had off the shoulder sleeves and her waist HAD to have been made smaller with magic. Because it looked _tiny_! Or maybe she was wearing a corset. The train was ridiculously long, but she looked spectacular nevertheless. Bill seemed close to tears to see his bride. I felt so happy for him I thought my heart would burst.

Fleur walked up to him and they held hands and followed the whole procedure. I barely listened. It was so boring, and I was sure Ron would have fallen asleep had he not been ogling Hermione's cleavage. I tried to focus on not letting my eyes droop by looking around at one of my uncle and aunts who were sitting on the far left. It was just then that my eyes moved to a face that was looking to somewhere on the far right. I caught a sliver of Harry's face, somewhat hidden behind Ron's broad back.

How on earth was I going to get through an entire year at school, if he always looked so mind-bogglingly delicious?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It had been about two weeks since Bill's wedding, and with Phlegm honeymooning with Bill in the Bahamas, the house was empty again...not.

I don't know how I got through those two weeks before Hogwarts started again. Hermione, Ron and Harry spent all their time talking in hushed voices (I suspected Harry hadn't told them that I knew he was on his way to the battle of a lifetime), and so I spent most of my time holed up in my room, trying to avoid them. I couldn't even eat a proper meal with Harry at the table, so I suggested to Mum if I could go eat outside (although she frequently protested). And so I'd eat a few bites, glance briefly at the-boy-who-knew-everything and leave the table.

Despite my loner attitude around the house, everyone else seemed to be having a good time. I could hear my family joking with Harry and Hermione often through the floorboards of my room, but I forcefully would shut out the noise, covering my ears with pillows. I would _not_ go downstairs and join everyone.

Fred and George had left, unwilling to leave Weasley's Wizard Wheezes unattended for too long, Charlie had followed suit, saying that he had a herd of Siberian dragons to look after, Dad was barely home with all his work at the Ministry, and Mum was...well Mum. But...that was okay, right? I could cope with the next two weeks on my own. Certainly I wouldn't die of boredom...

Sure. I don't think you want to know how two weeks of staring out my window passed, so I'll just skip ahead.

The first of September arrived with excitement bubbling on the surface of all my friends. I had overheard from a conversation with Hermione that Harry had decided that he was indeed going back to Hogwarts, at least until Christmas. I had later asked Hermione why he was leaving, but all she had said was that he had "work" to do.

Mum had a crying frenzy as Ron boarded the Hogwarts Express, saying that she couldn't wait until he graduated. Hello? What about your only daughter? I got a teary hug and then was shoved into the train by other students. Glad to be away from Harry for once, I quickly pushed my way through the herd of students and looked through the small windows of the compartments to find the one person I wanted to complain about my life to. Finally, towards the end of the train, I found Luna sitting slouched in the corner of the compartment with a copy of the Quibbler in her hands, a pencil resting on her ear. Some things just didn't change, I thought happily.

"Hey Luna!"

Her large eyes looked up to see me standing near the door of the compartment. She was wearing a pair of puke-coloured corduroys and a pale pink button-down. Wow, I really had to help her with that.

"How was your summer?" asked Luna, her starry eyes darting over my rather wretched appearance. I'd decided to dress down for the first day of school. Tattered jeans, and a crummy, three-year-old blue t-shirt.

"Oh, it was...bearable. Bill got married," I added, trying desperately to change the subject from my summer. "What about you?"

"It was fine. My dad and I discovered a new species of Gjornhingles that actually have a little ball on their heads that glows. It's really very interesting, you know, they can track down a -,"

The door banged open, and there stood Seamus and Dean. I looked over both of them. Seamus had gotten a slight tan over the summer, making his almost invisible freckles turn even more invisible. His hair was rather shaggy and messy, and he looked like a very adult, masculine person. Dean looked darker, taller, and if possible, more handsome than before, with his sharp nose and shady eyes covered by ebony hair.

"Well, hello there, Miss Ginevra Weasley," said Seamus, gazing at me appreciatively. I rolled my eyes. Seamus never stopped hitting on me.

"How are you Ginny?" asked Dean, elbowing Seamus in the ribs as they both sat down opposite Luna and me.

"I'm good," I said.

"And how's the Lunester?" asked Seamus, glancing at Luna, who had gone back to her magazine the minute they had walked in the door.

"Fine," mumbled Luna, not looking up from her magazine. She had turned beet red, for some reason.

"Don't call her that," I chided to Seamus, who in turn leaned toward me.

"What if I want to?" he sneered, a wicked grin playing across his face.

I leaned towards him too. "Well then you'll have to get through me first."

He smirked. "Good -,"

"What's going on?"

Everyone in the compartment turned around to see Harry standing in the entryway of the door. He was laden with his, Ron's and Hermione's suitcases, his face shining with perspiration and his hair mussed from lagging around such a heavy weight.

He was making this very hard for me.

Seamus's smirk grew as Harry's eyes flew to our faces close together. His eyebrows knit together as he wiped his wrist across his forehead.

"Hi Harry," said Luna. She looked genuinely pleased to see him. Dean glanced around the train compartment, trying desperately not to match his eyes to Harry's. Apparently our break-up was still fresh in his mind. I gulped. Just thinking about that day, when we'd won the match and I'd jumped into Harry's arms…not expecting that he'd press his soft lips to mine in two seconds. That feeling of longing, of something that was no more, swelled up in me, and gazing at the currently sweaty Harry was not helping at all.

"Hey Luna," he said quietly. "Can I sit?" He pointed to the seat next to mine. Without waiting for an answer, he sat down, as far as possible from me, while Seamus and Dean started whispering something to each other. It was the most gossipy gesture I had ever seen between two males…and it was kind of scary.

"So, Harry, have you encountered any species of Rumpling Snorkacks lately?" asked Luna completely innocently.

Harry just stood up and starting heaving the suitcases up onto the rack. "Erm…no."

"Really?" asked Luna, unaware that Harry wasn't paying the slightest attention, "…because I would have thought that -,"

"Uh, Ginny?" asked Dean suddenly. Apparently the gossip kings had finished.

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a second…outside?" He seemed very nervous for some reason. I nodded, fighting the urge to see Harry's face, but he was still standing up facing the luggage rack. Mutely I followed Dean out into the narrow corridor of the train.

"What's up?" I asked him, stuffing my fists into the pockets of my jeans. He was fidgeting so damn much, that I was wondering if he was having a mental breakdown.

"I…uh…wanted to know if you were…uh…seeing someone lately?"

Oh, no, of course I'm not seeing anyone. I'm much too busy being the world's greatest loser with the world's greatest unrequited love. I deserve to have an award for loneliest spinster. I should sit in my little kitchen and make apple pies for dwarves all day long. That sounds suitable enough, doesn't it?

"Um, no…I'm not seeing anyone."

Dean glanced down at his shoes. I had to admit, he looked kind of hot at the moment. His hair was brushing his forehead, his eyelashes looked long and dark, his teeth pulling nervously at his lips. But if I compared Dean to Harry, Dean was left far behind.

"Oh…good. 'Cause…I was wondering if…" he faltered.

Wait. An idea just popped into my head. I'd seen Harry's expression when he'd opened the compartment door and caught me and Seamus inches apart. How would the boy-who-would-suffer feel if his ex-girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend got back together? The gears turned in my head, the hamster ball rolling quickly as my inner hamster ran faster, faster, faster –

What's wrong with me? Hamsters? Oh, Merlin…

"If?" I prompted eagerly. I couldn't want to go back in there with Dean plastered to me. He looked up at me again with an intense gaze. Not bad there, Deano…

"If…" Our gazes locked, a small twinkle glittering in his chocolatey eyes. "If…"

And before I knew it, our tonsils were playing hockey.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: sorry it took so long to upload. i've been reading the 7th book (who hasn't) and I've been busy with schoolwork. But now I'm back, and I will try to post as often as possible!

telira: yes i agree, the attitude is definitly one that i've never read before. i just felt that ginny is such a great character, she's so multi-faceted. i love writing about her. thanks for reviewing!

SheHss: yes, that sentence is hilarious. i think i read it in a book somewhere. it really matches with ginny's character, don't you think! thanks for reviewing!

thanks to all the rest who reviewed! it really keeps me going...

anyways, on to the story!

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I suddenly pulled away from Dean. It felt weird, somehow. I don't know what was so wrong, I mean, this wasn't my first time kissing him or something. But maybe it was the fact that just a moment ago I'd imagined it was Harry's lips on mine, and then I'd opened my eyes to Dean's slightly fuller lips. Yeah…maybe that's what had made it weird.

"Um…maybe we should go back in," I said quietly. After all, we'd been out here for about twenty minutes already. In fact, I couldn't help but feel a slightly tingling feeling coursing through my body. I felt nervous, excited. I couldn't wait to go back in there!

Dean opened the compartment door and I immediately noticed three things. First of all, Luna had her magazine the right way up, which was amazing, and was gazing longingly at Seamus. Secondly, he was completely ignoring her and was staring out the window. Thirdly, Harry was cleaning his glasses a bit too hard, so hard in fact, that one of his lenses popped out. Cursing, he picked it up and shoved it back into the frame, murmuring "Reparo" to fix it quickly.

"What you lookin' at?" he asked harshly to Dean, who was gazing at him surprisedly.

Dean shook his head, eyes wide, and we both sat down opposite each other. Silence reigned until Seamus finally cleared his throat.

"So…where are Ron and Hermione?" he asked Harry nervously.

"Prefect's compartment," muttered Harry.

"So why's their stuff here?"

"I don't know, okay?" yelled Harry. "Just get off my back, will you?"

Seamus and Dean glanced at each other and then at me. I shrugged. Only Luna seemed to not notice a thing.

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was uncomfortably long and tiring. Luna just kept reading her magazine (it took her about half an hour for each page), and Harry and I were pretty much silent. Only Dean and Seamus seemed to be capable of whispering, sniggering, and slapping their thighs in the throes of laughter. It was only until Ron and Hermione arrived that they trotted out of our compartment to laugh their heads off somewhere else.

Ron and Hermione sat down opposite Luna, Harry and I, their hands entwined and their sides glued to each other. Hermione's face seemed flushed and I wouldn't be surprised if they'd had a slight detour from the prefect's compartment.

"Reckon we should get the old Gobblestone set out?" asked Ron.

"We're almost there; we might as well change," said Harry, standing to get his suitcase from the luggage rack.

About half and hour later, the train finally creaked to a halt and everyone poured onto the wet pavement. It must have rained earlier, because it was pretty humid (my hair! my hair!).

"Come on, ye li'l firs' years, o'er here!" yelled out Hagrid, waving his immense arm over the group of short, red-faced first years that had that frightened look on their face. I remembered my first day…hadn't really been that fun.

"Ginny! Ginny!" said someone from the crowd. The train platform was overflowing with people; I saw fellow sixth years high-fiving each other (rather American, if you ask me) and many other of my friends hugging and checking out tan lines.

"Ginny!" I turned around to see Hermione, face flushed, wrestling Crookshanks with one arm and holding Hedwig's cage in the other.

"Need some help?" I asked over the uproar.

"Oh no, thanks. I've got it all under control," she said, as Crookshanks spat at Hedwig, all the while attempting to escape Hermione's firm grasp. She seemed to be having a hard time dealing with Hedwig's hoots and Crookshanks' growls (more of a tiger, I think), and her hair was starting to get frizzier. "No, it's just that Harry and Ron were wondering where you were. They've got a carriage."

"Ok, thanks, be right there."

I watched as Hermione weaved her way through the crowd towards the closest carriage. I was about to head off after her when suddenly I felt a hand on my behind.

"Who the -,"

"Hey there," said Seamus, smirking. I smacked his arm away but couldn't help a grin from spreading across my face. He never did stop, did he?

"I got us carriage. No one else. Very private. You wanna…?" he whispered into my ear, his body dangerously close to mine.

I noticed a very pale face stick out of a carriage, scanning the crowd. I realised then that Harry was glaring at me and Seamus.

I rotated myself so that our bodies were brushing. Then, carefully placing a hand upon Seamus' shirt collar, I softly said, "Sure."

As Seamus and I sauntered past the already filled carriages, I made sure I yelled out to Harry and Ron's carriage. "Sorry. Got another carriage!" Resisting the urge to turn around and see Harry's face, I followed Seamus to a carriage near the back.

"So I thought you and Dean had a little encounter outside the train compartment. What happened?" he asked, once we'd both sat down opposite each other in the carriage.

I adjusted my Gryffindor tie. "Well…I'm not exactly sure if he wants to get back together or if we just had a little…random snogging urge," (Seamus sniggered), "but whatever it was, I don't think I'm interested."

His face fell. "Why? You don't wanna get back together with my mate?"

"Well, not really," I said, fiddling with my skirt hem, "I mean, I'm over him. I thought that maybe…I could…" I stopped there because I wasn't sure how Seamus would react if I told him that my obsession with Harry hadn't unkindled. "But, I guess, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to give him my full concentration."

Seamus smirked. "And that's because…?"

I blushed. "Um…that is something I can't tell you."

He leaned forward. "And why is that?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. Anyways, what's with you all of a sudden? You're acting like Malfoy before his evil days."

Seamus cocked an eyebrow. "Malfoy was always evil. Are you saying that I'm evil?"

I giggled. "No. I mean…you know how he was such a playboy. You seem to be turning into one now."

Seamus laughed and leaned forward even more. Our faces were now two inches apart. "Well…" he said softly, "does that bother you?"

I looked over his sandy mop of hair, his slightly bent nose, and his thin pink lips. Truth was, I still couldn't help comparing him to Harry. No matter what, he was always on my mind. But he was being so pigheaded about everything. Me, for example. Why couldn't he just realise that I was the one for him? Well, guess what? If he could treat me this way, then I surely could.

I leaned in so that our noses were touching ever so slightly. "Of course not."

And then he closed the tiny gap between us.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: thanks to those who reviewed! please remember that this is what keeps me writing!

anyways enjoy!

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**Chapter 8**

"Ginny…"

It had only been three minutes, but we couldn't even keep our hands off each other. I kept my eyes closed, imagining that it was Harry who's hands were ripping off my tie and toying with the hem of my skirt. I imagined that it was Harry who was nibbling at my collarbone, whispering terribly dirty things in my ear, placing butterfly kisses on my jaw line. I clutched at him, undoing one shirt button at a time. I'd only gotten to the third one when suddenly the door of the carriage swung open.

"Blimey!"

Oh no. I knew what that meant.

"Ron!" exclaimed Seamus surprisedly.

My annoying brother was standing, holding the door open, his face one of shock. His eyebrows had disappeared and his ears were red. Not a good sign.

Immediately Seamus and I started readjusting our clothes. Seamus started fiddling with his shirt, but I'd ripped off the top one. I tightened my tie again and fixed my skirt. My hair was probably a mess.

"Ginny," growled Ron, "get out…now!"

"Woah, woah, woah!" said Seamus, stepping out of the carriage and holding out an arm to stop Ron from strangling me, "she's not a kid anymore, mate. She can do whatever she likes."

"THE HELL SHE WILL!" roared Ron. He was pushing against Seamus, trying to get at me. Suddenly I heard footsteps. Harry was running towards us. My pulse immediately quickened.

"Ron, Ron, calm down!" he said, pulling Ron back and grabbing both his arms.

I looked around. We were right at the open, wrought-iron gates. There was no one around except for us, although I saw someone with a lantern waving to us to come inside.

"I. Will. Not. Calm. DOWN!" he shouted into the night. The wet stone beneath us glittered from the light of the castle. I couldn't wait to go in. It looked so nice and warm, and the food was probably being served. Damn Ron and all his over-protectiveness.

"What the hell happened?" asked Harry.

"My bloody sister and this Irish punk were on their way to making ruddy children!" Ron yelled. "That's what happened!"

Harry let go of Ron, but thankfully Ron didn't do anything but breathe heavily, his face contorted angrily. Harry's face was grim, and he said no more as we all slowly headed towards castle. Ron was on Harry's other side, muttering murderously under his breath. Seamus seemed to have forgotten the whole incident and was walking silently by my side, apparently at ease. I felt like I was the center of attention, surrounded by three guys, one of them my annoying brother, another a devilishly naughty playboy, and the other the man of my dreams who had a tendency to ignore me. Great. I loved my life.

The person who had been standing near the gates waving the lantern had opened the gates for us with a complex unlocking charm from afar; as we neared I realised it was Professor Flitwick.

"Hurry now," he squealed, looking a lot like a miniature Father Christmas. "You don't want to be late for the feast!"

We followed him inside into the Great Hall. Wow. I'd never quite gotten over how huge it was. Or maybe I'd just never noticed it. Candles were floating everywhere, people were muttering excitedly. I saw a few tiny looking kids amongst the tables. I guess we'd missed the Sorting.

"Run along now," exclaimed Flitwick from somewhere behind us. We watched him waddle up to the staff table and climb up his staircase of books to his chair. He really was a funny little character.

Ron, Seamus, Harry and I made our way to the Gryffindor table. Seamus broke off from us to sit near Dean, and Ron and Harry found a cross-looking Hermione. I went and sat a few seats down from her, beside Neville. As he struck up a conversation with me, I could barely keep my concentration from swaying to Harry. I watched as he whispered something to Hermione, eyebrows furrowed, lips moving quickly. His bright green eyes were piercing from behind his glasses, and his gaze suddenly switched to mine. Immediately I looked down, face flushing embarrassedly. I quickly turned to Neville, nodding along, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"…so then Gran says, " Leave those Dazy Gurnupers alone!" and flings a saucepan at them…"

"Yeah, I know," I said, not even paying attention to what he was saying.

Neville stopped halfway through his sentence. "You weren't paying attention were you?"

I felt kind of bad. Neville was a truly good person, and he didn't deserve being taken advantage of.

"Sorry," I replied make ashamedly.

"S'all right," he said, heaving a sigh. "I know you were looking at Harry."

"What?" I snapped.

"Yeah," said Neville casually. "Trust me Ginny, it's nothing new. It's not like Luna and I don't know."

"But…but…" I spluttered. "How could…"

"I don't like what he did, Ginny," said Neville, "but you've got to admit, he's right. He and Ron and Hermione have got a lot on their minds, he wouldn't be able to give you the time you deserve with him. He doesn't want to risk losing you."

I remained silent. This was unacceptable! How on earth could Neville possibly know all this? Maybe they were all talking about it, behind my back. Maybe Harry had discussed me with them. This was the limit! Harry had some serious problems!

"A word, students!" boomed McGonagall's voice. Immediately silence reigned in the Great Hall. "Now that you have had the time to get acquainted with your new additions," she nodded towards the first-years, "I suggest you all enjoy the feast!"

Instantaneously mouth-wateringly delicious food appeared on the table. Ron, being the pig he is, immediately dug into the nearest chicken leg, grabbed two, one in each hand, and started eating like a cannibal. Hermione threw him a look of disgust and primly began stirring her soup, blowing on it to cool down. Nevertheless, she shot him a loving smile, which made him grin stupidly while gravy dribbled down his chin.

I sat silently, seething in anger, barely paying attention to my food. So that was what it was going to be like, eh? I was supposed to be the pathetic little schoolgirl, with her pathetic little schoolgirl crush on the ever-famous Harry-sodding-Potter? Did everyone just forget that I went _out_ with the Boy Who Dared?

But, no, I was going to be the laughing stock; everyone was going to point and giggle at the little redhead. I was the one who got all that stupid pity, and I bloody as hell didn't want any.

That's it. He'd not only toed, but crossed the line. If he wanted to tell everyone, that was fine with me (well, not really), he'd just have to suffer the consequences. Oh yes, he'd have to suffer the wrath of the hot-tempered Ginevra Weasley. He'd learn what the pangs of jealousy felt like.

Let's see how he got _that_ around to the whole school then.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: this chapter is a bit more on the M side of the T-rating. just wanted to heat up the story!

enjoy, and please review!

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**Chapter 9**

It was the end of the first week of school, and I was literally plunged in homework. Every single professor found it necessary to show us the workload of what the intermediate levels of wizarding felt like. To me it just felt like I'd grown up twenty years in one summer.

It was hard to avoid Harry, seeing that he, Ron and Hermione would take to sitting in the far corner of the Gryffindor Common Room and talk in hushed voices. I couldn't even concentrate properly. I'd start writing out a Herbology essay, and _bean pods_ would turn to _green toads_, which reminded me of green eyes, which reminded me of…

I finished my last essay on Friday night at one o'clock, and immediately slammed my books shut and headed upstairs to the Dormitories. Slowly, I buried myself in the covers and closed my eyes, willing sleep to come quickly.

I couldn't help but wistfully wonder if he'd still go out with me if he didn't have all these problems with Voldemort. I mean, it was terrible and all, but why did it have to get in the way of our former "relationship"? God, I hated that word…

What we'd had was more than a relationship. It was a secret bond, held together by threads of passion and understanding. We were so attracted to each other that it was like the magnetic pull of the Earth's poles. When we were together, it was like two pieces of wood melding together in the fire, creating warm and balmy fumes full of intense feelings. Our connection was alluring, an enticement, a thing to both fear and love.

And now, it was all gone. I was left in the cinders of our fire, wandering in the ashes of desire, searching, searching, but never finding.

Wow. I was getting way too deep for my comfort.

I slid the covers off me. There was no way I could get sleep like this. I ambled out of the girl's dorm, trying not to wake my fellow dorm mates. I was only dressed in a white, almost see-through tank top and my favourite pair of black-and-white chequered pyjama bottoms, but who would be roaming the hallways at this time of night?

Quietly, I crept out the Common room, making sure the Fat Lady's painting closed with the smallest snap in case I woke anybody, or worse, the Fat Lady herself. I tiptoed my way down the hallway, deciding not to light my wand, since I could see from the light of the moon outside. If I lighted my wand, the other portraits would obviously raise an alarm.

I wasn't really sure where I was going, just anywhere to make myself tired. The dark didn't scare me as much as the thought of getting caught did. I didn't know how strolling around the castle would make me want to go to sleep, but I was desperate to do something. Lying in my bed with thoughts of Harry was not an option, and besides, it would probably drive me mad in the end.

I was just passing a stretch of wall with no portraits on it when suddenly a hand clamped down on my mouth. Someone was holding both my arms behind my back, all the while managing to keep a hand firmly on my mouth.

They pressed me against the wall, my chest crushed against the hard stone. I could feel the person's hot breath against the nape of my neck, it was coming in short excited huffs.

"Thought you'd go for a nice stroll now, eh?" they asked. The voice was deep, a man, and I could feel the hard line of his body against my back.

"Thought you'd be safe in the castle, all alone at night, wearing…_this_?" He crushed my hands on my back, holding them steady with his hips while the hand that was not on my mouth ran over my torso, feeling the fabric.

I was feeling so afraid that I couldn't do anything, not that I could, seeing that my mouth was still clamped shut and my arms were restricted in his iron grasp.

"Well," he continued, and I could feel his lips brushing behind my ear, "I suppose you thought wrong." He bit down on my earlobe, then trailed his lips to the nape of my neck. His breath felt hot against my skin, burning it where he went.

He licked a slow line up from my neck to my ear, then back down again, before he bit into a space beneath my collarbone. My scream of pain was drowned in my throat, I could feel the sting as he lapped up the blood, and then I could feel his lips form a grin.

"Just something to remind you of me," he said, stroking my hair, feeling the strands. Then he pulled, not too hard, but enough for my head to be angled back a bit. Then he murmured in my ear, "Don't you want to know who I am?"

My insides were trembling in fear. Suddenly he turned me around, slamming my back against the wall so that I was facing him. It was a good thing he'd clamped a hand on my mouth, because my squeal of surprise would have been tremendous. In front of me, was standing Draco Malfoy.

A million questions ran through my head. Why was he here? Wasn't he supposed to be gone from the school? Hadn't it been known that he'd showed his allegiance to Voldemort publicly, by bringing in a hundred Death Eaters? I should know, I'd fought alongside Neville, Luna, Ron and Hermione. Why was he here? Why was the treacherous Slytherin back?

He looked down at me, smirking in his menacing way. His silvery blond hair hung loosely over his forehead, over his stormy grey eyes, even visible in this light. His face ended in a pointed chin, above which his thin lips curled up in a crooked smirk.

"Miss me, Weaslette? Forgot what it's like to have a proper Slytherin around? Or have you been reading minds? Did you know I was going to be here tonight?"

My eyes were wide open, still in shock. I couldn't believe he was back. My eyes were starting to tear up from trying to focus on his face, two inches from mine, especially in this darkness. Or, it could have been from the stinging pain near my collarbone.

"Well, in a way, I'm glad you did decide to come out here tonight." His eyes narrowed, the smirk became bigger, and before I knew it, he'd unclamped my mouth, quickly replacing it with his lips before I could get a sound out.

His lips were forceful, impatiently parting mine and exploring my mouth. My tongue remained stubbornly still, I was trying to push him off me with my body weight but that didn't seem to work, seeing as my hands were held firmly behind my back.

I could feel his chest pressing against mine, his free hand sifting through my hair, touching my face, pushing on the back of my head to pull me even closer to his eager lips. His hands ran down my side, down my waist, over the curve of my hips, then up my stomach, over the middle of my breastbone, and onto the crevice of my neck.

Despite my sense of fear, I was starting to shudder in pleasure, shameful though it felt. My heart was starting to beat in excited patterns; breathing through my nose was becoming suddenly hard. Had my mouth not been covered by his lips, I would have moaned.

I felt his hands on my shoulder, slowly easing the strap of my tank top off. I couldn't have done anything about it if I wanted to. His lips were still on mine, his tongue still dominated my mouth, although I was finding it hard not to react to his touches now.

He pulled off one strap off my shoulder, and ran a hand down from my neck to my hands behind my back. He then started slowly pulling down my shirt, inch by inch. A small part of my brain woke up from our heat of passion. What was happening? Was he going to…?

Suddenly, the heat left me. I felt a cool breeze in front of me, signifying Malfoy's absence. My body disapproved, wanting back that tall, lean body of heat, but my brain breathed a sigh of relief. I was still safe, so far.

I heard a voice somewhere far away, distant, as if long gone from the dark corridor.

"Come back next week, same time, same place. I'll be waiting."

I barely registered it as I slithered down the wall, tired as hell. My mind was completely blank, and, unaware that I was in the middle of a corridor, I drifted off into sleep


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **here's the next chapter. i still have quite a bit planned. ginny's turning out to be a very fun character to write about.

enjoy!

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**Chapter 10**

"Who is she?"

"No clue."

"Oh, wait, I think I know. Isn't it that Weasley?"

"What's her name again? Ginger? Gungi? Gingy?"

"Ginny."

"What's she doing on the ground?"

"Did she sleep out here all night long?"

"Who knows."

"Should we wake her?"

"I guess we -,"

"OUT OF THE WAY!"

The shout made my eyes slowly open. My eyelids fluttered, my neck was aching from the uncomfortable position it had been. Slowly, I looked up.

At least thirty people were surrounding me, with confused looks in their eyes. I felt like I was a midget in the midst of giants. I looked down and saw that I was only wearing the white tank top and my pyjama bottoms. The strap of my tank had slid down my arm. Nervously I straightened it. My hands rushed through my hair, smoothing it down. That was when I noticed Ron towering over me, with a piercing glare, and to my utmost horror, standing behind him was Harry.

He appeared confused and furious at the same time. When he noticed my gaze, he quickly looked down. Nervously, I stood up.

"Let's get out of here," hissed Ron, and, fuming, he roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me through the crowd. Harry followed.

I heard the students whisper, and I knew immediately that I was going to be the talk of the rest of the week.

Once we'd reached the Common Room, Ron violently turned me around. I smacked his hand away. Harry stood a few feet away, looking at the floor.

"Can I know why my little sister just got discovered on the bloody floor, covered by nothing than a few pieces of ruddy cloth?!?" yelled Ron.

I shot him a look of loathing. "Why are you angry at me? For all you know, something seriously bad could have happened to me!"

Harry suddenly looked up, and my eyes narrowed in suspicion when I noticed a look of worry flit across his face.

"But nothing happened to you, did it?" bellowed Ron. "Or else you wouldn't be bloody screeching at me!"

"Shut your mouth, Ron!" I shouted over him, my hair a red whirl around my head. "I was just going for a walk last night because I couldn't sleep!"

Ron laughed without humour. "And you just _happened_ to fall asleep on the floor?"

I paused for a second, racking my brain for an excuse. "No! I just…got frightened by a…a…ghost!"

Ron glared at me sceptically. "Yeah, right."

"It's not your problem anyways!" I yelled.

He flared up at once. "THE RUDDY HELL IT ISN'T! D'YOU KNOW WHAT MUM WOULD SAY IF SHE FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS?"

"About what?!? That I slept on the floor? What's so crazy about that?"

Ron seemed to have run out of steam. I sighed inwardly. This meant the main danger was over. He turned to Harry.

"What do you think about this?" Ron asked him.

"Me?" Harry asked, bewildered that Ron was actually asking his opinion. "I dunno, mate, I don't have a sister."

"Oh come on!" said Ron.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I dunno…it's not like anything happened to her, right? Just…just let her off, mate."

I looked over at him. The corners of his mouth started turning up in a smile when I shot him an angry glare.

Ron grunted lividly, then stomped out of the Common Room. I jumped when I heard the portrait swing shut and a "Now, really!" from the Fat Lady.

Harry and I stood in the room, looking at the floor. The awkwardness between us was overwhelming. I could just feel the uncomfortable vibes that were floating among us.

"So…uh," he started, "…what _did_ happen?"

"Oh, nothing," I said shrugging nonchalantly. "Just…got tired in the middle of my walk."

He cocked his eyebrow at me. "Come on…Ron's gone now."

I groaned and slumped over to the couch, pelting myself headfirst into a fluffy, crimson pillow. I heard his footsteps follow me, and then the pressure on the couch as he sat down on the other end.

"What happened, Ginny?"

My heart started fluttering when I heard him say my name. Had I not been so dishevelled, I would have done something about it (like pin him to the couch and make out with him for hours). But for some reason, I didn't feel like it. I felt so utterly ashamed for last night. What was wrong with me? And what would I tell Harry?

"I…uh," I started, my voice muffled because I still hadn't raised my head from the pillow, "I…was talking a little…_stroll_…when I heard noises, so I…uh…turned the corner and I saw…I saw…"

"Saw what?" he asked curiously.

I lifted my head from the pillow and found Harry's face three inches from mine. We were both surprised, but neither of us moved away. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was sure he could hear it. Fire burned through my cheeks, my breathing turned ragged. Being this close to him was dangerous. I could get heart failure.

"Saw what?" he asked again, whispering softly.

"I…saw a…ghost." He sighed, the magical web of sweet hesitance broken.

"No really," I reassured. "I saw a ghost, but I'd never seen him before…"

"Him?" he inquired.

"Yes. He was tall, and…and younger than most of the other ghosts. He…frightened me, so I bumped into the wall, and…I fell unconscious."

Harry looked at me. He didn't look like he was buying it. I was surprised when he said, "All right. I believe you."

He briskly got up. I followed suit. "Where are you going?" I asked him, making sure my voice didn't sound too desperate.

"Romilda asked me to meet her this morning. She's probably expecting me."

He wasn't facing me so I couldn't tell what expression was on his face. I was astounded that I was still standing.

"Romilda?" I asked, having a hard time breathing. "Romilda Vane?"

"Yes," he said, his voice sounding oddly distorted. "I've got to go."

"Oh…all…alright," I said a moment too late as the portrait shut closed. I collapsed onto the armchair by the fireplace. Harry was meeting Romilda Vane? What…what was going on?

Why was everything so terribly wrong?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **after a very long time, I'm posting again. thank to all those who reviewed.

enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"Why aren't you eating?" asked Hermione. She put down her _Daily Prophet, _glaring at me like an angry mother.

It was breakfast. After Harry had left, I'd sat on the couch in front of the fireplace for what seemed like hours, suddenly remembering that I was hungry. Running downstairs to the Great Hall, I'd almost tripped over the stairs when I saw Romilda Vane holding Harry's hand while they ran up the stairs to the third floor, laughing merrily.

Suddenly I didn't feel hungry anymore.

But I'd proceeded into the Great Hall anyways, eager for a distraction. I'd arrived late, most people were done and leaving the hall but I spotted Hermione still reading her paper, half an omelette and a glass of pumpkin juice lying in front of her.

"It isn't good to starve yourself, you know," said Hermione, making clucking noises.

I rested my head against the table, feeling through my dishevelled hair. I hadn't even bothered to fix it. My face felt dry, my lips begging for some form of moisture. I licked my lips, trying to block out the sounds of people happily talking to one another and the heart-breaking image of Harry and Romilda holding hands.

"I know, Hermione," I said, a hint of annoyance in my voice. Why did she always have to act like my mother?

I thought about last night. What had happened? First, I'd taken a "walk" in the dark corridors late at night. I'd then been trapped against a wall by Draco Malfoy. He'd then proceeded to kiss me with way too much enthusiasm but somehow I'd enjoyed it.

Ron was right. I really _was_ insane.

Had I suddenly fallen for Draco? I didn't think so. Why would I have shivered when Harry was talking to me on the couch? Why did I feel sudden spurts of jealousy every time I thought of Harry with Romilda? No...I definitly did not like Draco.

But then why would I be so tempted to go see him tonight?

"Anything in that paper of yours?" I asked Hermione dully. She flipped one of the pages, reaching for her juice.

"Nothing really. Except for some Death Eater murdering a Ministry official," said Hermione, not even removing her eyes from the paper.

Oh, right. The Death Eaters. I'd completely forgotten what was going on in the outside world. This whole Voldemort business was rather tiring, in my opinion. Granted, I'd been captured by him before, and had even ended up falling for his younger version (ah, those childhood days of fancies for evil men), but now, when I thought it, I couldn't possibly seem to focus on the problems of the outside world. My love life was far too interesting.

So selfless.

I decided I'd had enough of sitting here uselessly, and since I was definitely not going to eat anything, I might as well get through some of my homework. I left Hermione at the table, who was too submerged in her paper to even say goodbye, and headed up to the girl's dormitories. Once there, I grabbed my books and settled myself on my four-post bed, deciding that it was much more comfortable to study here than out in the Common Room among all the other Gryffindors. Taking out my incomplete Charms essay, I attempted to remember what I'd been on the point of writing but had never finished. I followed the silky lines of the red velvet curtains hanging from the tall posts of my bed, noticing the small particles of dust swirling in the air, visible by the sun's strong morning rays.

I got up from my bed, walking over to the window that gave a sweeping view of the Hogwarts' grounds. The grassy, green lawn was scattered with people here and there, lying under trees, relaxing by the clear, blue lake, relaxing and enjoying the morning sunshine.

My forehead creased when I noticed a familiar mop of messy black hair sitting on the edges of the lake. Harry was dipping his feet in the water, but he wasn't alone. Next to him was Romilda, her shiny black hair waving slightly in the wind. They were chatting lightly, laughing, having fun.

I shut the curtains, blocking the sun from entering the room. Resolutely, I clambered over to my bed again and thrust the Charms essay down onto my lap again, determined to concentrate this time.

_An admiration charm gives the receiver a sweeping sense of respect and wonder for the one casting the charm..._

* * *

I opened my eyes abruptly, hearing the sounds of my dorm mates' even breathing. One of them was mumbling something in their sleep, another was fidgeting restlessly. I shot up in bed mechanically, checking the time on the grandfather clock tucked away in the corner of the room._One thirty._

Like a puppet, I moved the covers off my body and shoved the velvet curtains aside. Without even looking for my furry slippers, I slid off my bed and walked unconsciously out the door of the girl's dorm, down the stairs, out the Common Room and into the dark and empty corridors.

I was wearing close to the same outfit as last night: a black tank top this time instead if white and the same pyjama pants. My red hair flared out behind my head from being spread out on my pillow. My breathing was even. Not nervous. Not excited. Just calm.

I reached the same corridor as last night, feeling for that same wall in the darkness. It had only been about ten seconds when I suddenly felt the air moving behind me.

"Well, well, well, look who it is..." said a deep voice in my ear. I shivered, my body tingling with the fact that he was there again.

I was still facing the wall, so I hadn't seen his face yet. I was about to turn around when he stopped me, his cool hands on my shoulders. He trailed his hands down, reaching my hands.

"Tonight, we go elsewhere," he said, his breath tickling my neck. He pulled me along behind him, not showing his face yet. I stumbled after him, keeping my hold on his hand tight. His platinum hair sparkled in the moonlight coming from the tall windows. My feet moved of their own accord.

I'd been entranced. Or Imperiused.

Either way, it felt good.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: i've received a lot of reviews saying how ginny's such a playgirl, making out with, like, 4 guys per day. well, i'll try to stay away from that from now on. BUT, she'll still be around 2 major characters, which means that there WILL be some kissing scenes. can't get away from that. its essential to the story and the character developement (in relevance to THIS story...after all, the characters are all J.K. Rowlings...)

anyways, keep reviewing, and enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

I felt the cool hands being removed from over my eyes. I looked around, gasping. We were up one of the battlements, high above the grounds. Harry had told me once that this was where he had let Sirius and Buckbeak escape. We were so high up that I felt like the stars were within reach. The cold night air made goosebumps appear on my bare arms. I shivered involuntarily.

Draco pulled me away from the edge of the parapets and drew me into his arms. Finally, I saw his face. He looked like a dark angel, his face so terrifyingly handsome, his light hair splayed across his forehead, his silver eyes glinting like sharp chips of ice in the moonligh. I attempted to get away from him but he held my in his steely grasp, not allowing me to escape.

"Let me go, or I'll scream!" I said urgently, even though I hoped he wouldn't.

He chuckled darkly, pushing my hair back over my shoulder. His fingers traced the angry red mark he'd left on my collarbone the night before.

"I see you haven't put a spell to rid yourself of the horrible memories of last night," he said.

"I didn't have the time, or I would have," I snapped, forcing my gaze away from him. He snarled, turning me roughly around so my back was pressed against him. I gasped as he suddenly brushed my hair away and started ravaging my neck. I moaned lightly, letting him take over. My hands moved involuntarily upwards, reached for the back of his head to pull him as close to my body as I could. He squeezed my bare upper arms when I grasped his hair a bit too tightly. My brain was definitely not working.

"Why did you come back?" I asked him, trying to maintain the anger in my voice but almost failing.

He stiffened. I could feel the hard line of his body against me turn to cool stone. Turning me around to face him again, he pulled on my hair, making my head go up so that our chins were touching. My heavy, ragged breaths were all I could hear, as well as the uneven beating of my heart pounding in my chest.

"That is something for me to know, and for you to find out," he said, a small crooked smirk appearing on his lips. He then lowered his mouth on mine, but not in his usual rough way. It was slightly softer, and yet somehow this kiss felt so much deeper. His tongue explored my mouth as his hands ran up and down my body.

When he broke away, my eyes were still closed, still savouring his delicious taste (icy mint). And then, just like last night, I felt the warmness that had been pressed against me leaving, and that same deep, sexy voice whispering in my ear, "Friday, same time, different place...You might end up liking the seventh floor..." And then he was gone.

I opened my eyes slowly, relishing the last few moments in my mind. Determined not to be caught again alone in some corner of the castle, I reluctantly dragged my tired self back down the stairs. My body warmed once I was inside, and I crept silently back to the Gryffindor Common Room through the moonlight. My footsteps were muffled in the thick carpeting of the floor, thank god.

Where had he disappeared to? He was definitely not a ghost, nor a figment of my imagination. I wasn't _that_ crazy…right?

Once I'd reached the girl's dorm, I snuck back into bed, covered myself up to the head with my covers and closed my eyes, breathing deeply, thinking of Draco's lips. The combination of his alluring smell, his deep, sexy voice, his attractive features…I wasn't falling for him, was I?

* * *

Monday and Tuesday flew by swiftly. On Wednesday morning I woke and discovered that I had about an hour off just before lunch, so I decided to head off to the Quidditch pitch and fly around for a bit. Sure, I wasn't on the team, but whatever. The wind on my face and hair was too alluring for me to resist anyways.

I dressed warmly, knowing that the weather was steadily becoming chilly. I donned a snug crimson sweater and then tramped outside.

The day was windy but beautiful. The sun was shining brightly, and there were only a few puffy, white clouds in the sky. I grabbed a broom from near the changing rooms and walked with it to the side of the pitch. Then, mounting the broom, I set off.

Instantly the wind blew across my face, swept up my hair and all rid me of every thought in my head. All that went through my mind was, _I love flying._

I really do! Soaring over the pitch, over the stands, watching birds from much closer up, feeling as if the clouds were close enough to touch was all I could think of. The Quidditch Pitch was where I belonged. I love it.

Oh yeah. Along with a lot of other things.

Suddenly I heard someone calling my name from far below. I squinted my eyes to look down, trying to see through the tears that had occurred because of the wind, I realised that it was none other than Harry.

Purrfect.

Preferably, I would have combed through my hair and added a coat of lip gloss to my chapped lips, but that's kind of hard when you're up in the air. So, I slowly flew back down to the ground, trying to land far away from Harry so that I'd have some time to fix myself.

Once I'd landed, I combed through my hair with my fingers and licked my lips, adjusting my posture while walking towards him. He was leaning against the stands, looking delectable in a black sweater, his hair casually mussed. Did he always have to look like that?

"I was about to practise my swerves when I saw a carrot head up in the air, so I decided to call you down," he said, grinning.

I punched him playfully. "I am not a carrot head!"

He smiled widely. Somehow, a bit of the awkwardness had left. It seemed like the Quidditch pitch had it's magical properties. It was where we both always felt the most comfortable. Maybe that was what was causing all the weird chumminess.

"Well, there's nothing like flying around an empty pitch at midday," he said, gazing out at the opposite side of the stands. I watched him for a minute before replying, almost breath taken by his sparkling jade eyes.

"No, there really isn't…" I whispered, still entranced by his stunning emerald orbs.

"How are your classes going?" he asked, a bit of the old formality back again.

"They're okay…" I answered, "McGonagall is driving us crazy with essays, and I think my sense of smell has left the house. I can't detect whether the potion I'm brewing is going bad or not anymore," I added ruefully.

He laughed, the sound echoing off the stands. It was nice to see him like this again. I'd missed it.

A lot. Can you tell?


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**wow, a chapter without draco in it! this one's for all those harry lovers out there (though personally i love draco) enjoy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

"So…are you going out with Romilda Vane?" I asked. We were now seated in the stands. The wind was still blowing, and it had gotten stronger so I had a hard time holding onto my hair so it wouldn't fly onto my face (so that I wouldn't look like a blithering idiot with my ginger hair blocking my already red face).

I could tell immediately that I'd hit a sore subject. He stiffened, looking uncomfortable and out-of-place. I whacked myself mentally, thinking how I could have possibly asked such a stupid question. But, of course, the girl in me just couldn't resist.

"Well…er…we're just…uh, friends for now," he said awkwardly. His eyes shifted, and he was avoiding my face. I quickly changed the subject.

"I dare you to test my flying skills!" I said, adopting an excited tone. His face lifted instantly, his eyebrows cocking playfully.

"Yeah, right. As if you're any good," he said teasingly.

"Ten galleons if I outfly you," I said, already getting up and grabbing my battered broom.

"Deal," he said, grinning. He ran to near the changing rooms and grabbed one of the better looking brooms on the rack. Then, coming up to me, he stood with his broom, ready to mount. "One, two, three!"

We both left the ground at the same time. There it was again, that glorious wind on my face, in my hair. For an instant I forgot that I was flying alongside the man of my dreams.

Must stay focused…

It was almost impossible to tell who was the better flier. We were both soaring above the stands side by side, going at incredible speeds. I glanced at Harry out of the corner of my eye. He was smirking.

I was about to raise my altitude when suddenly Harry bumped into me, forcing me out of the main flying area. I staggered in midair, my broom trying to equalize itself. I held on tight, maintaining my balance. Then I glanced at Harry, who was laughing merrily. Enraged, I turned my broom towards him and propelled myself forwards.

BANG! I hit him with great force into his right side. He staggered and almost toppled off his broom, the grin falling off his face and being replaced by unmasked fear. I grinned. He was hot when he was mad, and he was cute when he was scared.

Introducing the new, MultiPurpose Boy!

Once he'd regained his balance, he caught up to me and we were both racing for the ground to see who would land first. I propelled my broom forwards, forcing it to go faster, but Harry was still right beside me. His jet-black hair was blowing strongly in the wind and his glasses were pressed against his nose from the force of going down. His green eyes glittered. I was breath taken for a second, and I lost my concentration. Then suddenly his broom pushed farther than mine. No! I couldn't let him win!

He collided into the ground but just a millisecond later, I crashed into him as well. His broom had flown aside and he'd fallen on his right side and I'd rammed into him too. It was amazing that he was still breathing. How did I know that? Well, I was lying on top of him.

His eyes were closed but he was breathing rapidly through his nose so I knew he was alive. Being this close to him again was insanely difficult. My body raged with me, demanding that I kiss him immediately, but my brain refused, advising me that if I did kiss him, it would probably be unbelievably awkward for both of us.

Or would it?

I decided to listen to my brain and rolled off of him. He must have been hurt a lot because he still wasn't opening his eyes. Maybe he was scared that he was going to cry from the pain.

"Harry?" I said, lowering my mouth to his ear in case he'd lost his sense of hearing or something.

"Harry?" I asked again, when he didn't answer. "Are you all right?"

He budged a millimetre, shifting his right arm from underneath him, then he rolled onto his back, his eyes remaining closed.

"Why aren't you talking?" I said. If he was capable of moving, then he should have been able to talk. I pushed his torso lightly. He groaned.

"Harry, are you all right?" I asked again, a note of hysteria starting to rise in my voice. Had something been damaged inside his brain? Sweet Merlin, and it was all my fault!

"Harry, please be all right! Say something! Move! Open your eyes!" I exclaimed. I pulled his head onto my lap, his mop of jet black hair filled with the dirt and sand from the Quidditch pitch. His eyes were still closed and his glasses were askew. I straightened them and lay a hand on his chest, feeling his heart. It was beating, all right. His lungs were pumping too.

"Harry…" I whispered, lightly shaking my hand on his chest. Tears started pouring out of my eyes. What had I done? I lowered my head above his face, letting the tears take over. What if something had happened to him? What if he was injured for life? Why had she even bothered with this stupid flying race?

When I finally raised my head, I saw that his eyes were open. I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to dry my tears. He suddenly raised his hand to his forehead and lightly touched where my tears had fallen on his face. I blushed instantly.

"Ginny," he croaked. I inwardly breathed another sigh of relief. So he hadn't lost his ability of speech.

"Yes?" I said, my voice still wavering from the tears.

"Ginny," he said again. It wasn't a question. He was saying my name. Was that the only thing that had managed to register in his brain?

I waited for him to speak, but he didn't say anything. Deciding that something was definitely wrong with him, I decided to take him to the Hospital Wing.

"Come on, Harry. Get up. I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey," I said, lifting his head from my lap and pulling his body up (or rather trying to). He was pretty heavy.

Must be all that delicious muscle he hid under those clothes.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **i promise draco will show up soon!!! (for those of you who are draco lovers - as i am)

enjoy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

When I realised he wouldn't cooperate, I got frustrated. "Get up, Harry!" He did nothing but look at my face.

I got up, wincing a bit from the force of falling, and pulled back the sleeves of my shirt. Putting one arm around his torso, I heaved, mustering all my strength, and succeeded in getting him off the ground. I took his arm and wrapped as tightly as I could around my neck and put my other hand on his waist, supporting him. His legs were almost limp. He was barely walking.

I started sweating from carrying his full body weight. We travelled at a slow pace, my body starting to give out. I wanted to turn my head to look at his face (to see if his tongue had started lolling or not) but I knew that if I changed my position my body would wear out and we'd both fall on the ground.

I staggered towards the entrance, pushing through the door. People glared in my direction, muttering and looking at each other. No one even bothered to come and help me.

So much for "the unity of the school".

I was just wondering how on earth I was going to get him up the stairs when suddenly I heard a voice calling me.

"Ginny! Ginny! Wait up!"

Ron was sprinting towards me. He looked appalled when he saw Harry dangling off my shoulder.

"What the ruddy hell happened, Ginny? Did you kill him, or something?" he exclaimed, grabbing Harry's other arm and wrapping it around his own shoulder. Together we set off up the stairs.

"No…"I answered, unsure whether to tell him the whole story or not. He was going to kill me anyway, so I decided to tell him the truth. "We decided to have a race…to see who was the better flier and Harry…well, smashed into the ground."

"Merlin," muttered Ron. "It was your idea wasn't it?"

I couldn't help a sheepish smile from curling into the corner of my mouth. "Yeah," I admitted.

Ron shook his head hopelessly. We'd reached the Hospital Wing and carried Harry straight in. We headed towards one of the beds and carefully placed him onto it. His eyes had closed again and he looked like he was sleeping.

Madam Pomfrey appeared behind us, her eyebrows raising when she saw who it was lying on the bed.

"Not again! I don't know how many times this boy has been in here, but he is stupendously accident prone!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"He smashed into the ground while he was flying," I explained, wringing my hands.

Ron and I stepped aside so that the grey-haired Madam Pomfrey could take a look at Harry.

She lifted his eyelids, checking his eyes, then pressed her stethoscope onto Harry's chest. Clicking her tongue, she opened his mouth, checking the inside, then squeezed his wrist. After about a minute of some more checking, she turned to Ron and I.

"His tailbone's been minorly injured, so he'll need to stay in the Hospital Wing for a few days, and he seems to be a bit confused, so he'll need a Befuddlement Draught," said Pomfrey, already moving onto the next bed.

"What do you mean by, a couple of days? Why is he confused?" asked Ron.

Pomfrey kept on examining the next patient but answered distractedly to Ron. "Well, he'll have to stay here for at least a day, maybe two or three. The tailbone is an essential part of our body, Mr. Weasley. And as for his confusion…well, these things happen when you collide into the ground with full force."

Ron glanced at me. I was relieved that it wasn't anything too serious, or else Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have moved onto the next patient so quickly. Yet at the same time, I felt horrible for putting Harry through such a terrible ordeal. Damn.

"Ok, well, you've definitely got some explaining to do to anyone who asks where Harry is," said Ron as we started towards the corridors again. Heading down the flight of stairs, we passed lots of people heading for lunch. I realised that I was actually really hungry.

"Yeah, I know…"I answered. I gulped nervously. How would I answer? Sorry, I nearly killed the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Had-To-Save-The-World-From-The-World's-Evillest-Wizard?

Once we entered the Great Hall, I went and sat down near Hermione, who was already halfway through a meat pie. Ron went and sat down on her other side, pulling her plate towards him.

"'Ey! 'Oo shou 'ave wai'e fo' me!" he said, shovelling her meat pie into his mouth as Hermione watched irritably.

"Why can't you just eat from all the food in front of you? Why mine?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding her head towards the platters of fish and chips in front of them.

Ron swallowed heavily, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled extremely wide at her, exposing bits of meat stuck between his teeth. "Because it makes you mad," he said, grinning.

I smiled to myself. What a cute pair they made. I filled a bowl with tomato soup and grabbed a slice of pumpernickel bread, spreading peppermint spread all over it. Gazing around the room, I watched as some people talked enthusiastically to their friends, some couples fed each other morsels of food and some serious-looking students studied with their books propped against jugs of pumpkin juice or on their laps, absently feeding themselves. I watched amusedly as one boy with shortly cropped dark hair tried several times to put his fork into his mouth and kept hitting his face, smearing it with salad dressing. He didn't even realise that he could at least look up from his book, but no…his eyes remained locked on the book laying on his lap.

I sighed. Listening to Ron and Hermione titter flirtatiously only made me feel worse. There Harry was, lying in a hospital bed, and I was all alone.

Time to start looking forward to Friday night.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** after a long time, another post. please keep reviewing, as it inspires me to continue writing!

hope u like it!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

**Chapter 15**

_Whoosh!_ I got up abruptly, looking around at the velvet surrounding me in urgency. I realised I was lightly sweating, and wiped my forehead. Then, carefully, I extracted myself from my covers and put on my furry slippers. Tiptoeing across the Girl's Dorm, I made my way down the staircase and out the Common Room.

Trance-like, yet again, I made my way to the seventh floor. I would've been stumped by what he had meant, but a small part of my mind had been obsessing over his words since the last time I had seen him, and I had realized that he meant the most mysterious, dark and sexy room in all of Hogwarts.

The Room of Requirement.

I reached the vast expanse of wall and paced three times across it, closing my eyes and muttering under my breath, "_I need the room that Draco is waiting for me in_".

I opened my eyes, expecting it not to work, but to my surprise, a magnificently large door had materialised, and I gratefully pulled it open. Perhaps the magic of the door caused it not to creak, for it did not make a noise.

I gasped, stepping inside. This room was much too large, much too well-decorated, and much too sexy for my eyes to take in all at once. I had stepped into a paradise of cream and tangerine chiffon, buttery veils, velvety crimsons and pale pink silks. Voluminous sashes hung from the ceiling, to which it looked like there was no end. Low couches, silky divans piled with plump pillows and velvet throws lay scattered here and there. Elegant tables held gold trays of wine, olives and grapes. At the far back, I realised with a deep blush, was the masterpiece of the room. A glorious, round bed strewn with rose petals atop dark red velvet stood like a king at the back of the room. Large pillows rested against the huge, cherry wood backboard, filled with feathers, probably. The room had a dim and muted glow about it, light enough to see, but dark enough to be incredibly sexy.

I was in heaven.

I looked around eagerly for the man behind the masterpiece, but found no one in sight. Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed me from behind, grasping my waist tightly. I felt his mouth near my ear, breathing deeply through his nose, as he bit playfully on my collarbone.

"Draco?" I whispered, barely making a noise. My body was reacting quickly to his actions, loosening in his arms from the initial shock. He trailed his large hands down my hips, then brought up one hand to my chin, tilting it backwards against his shoulder. I closed my eyes as he suckled my neck, biting and licking backwards and forwards. With the other hand he brought up my leg by crooking an arm under my knee, feeling the underside of my thighs.

The sheer intimacy of this pose made me whimper in delight. Unable to stand still anymore, I raised both my arms and placed them both on the back of his neck, pulling him towards the silky divans and plopping down on the plump pillows and throws. I landed on my front, and he landed on top of me. Slowly threading his fingers through mine, he kissed my shoulder. Eager to see his face, since I still hadn't seen it, I attempted to turn around, but it was a hard task underneath his heavy body-weight. He nudged my hair to one side, exposing the back of my neck and trailed his fingers down my back slowly, with only a feather-touch to make me yearn for more.

Suddenly the weight was off me, and I opened my eyes to see Draco leaning against the pillows, pouring two glasses of red wine. I studied his face. He was concentrating on pouring the wine, his eyebrows knitted together under the platinum hair that lay casually on his forehead. I was, again, breath taken by his supremely good looks. Feeling rather exposed, I raised myself a bit, fixing my shirt and patting my hair.

"You showed up," he said gruffly, handing me a glass of wine, which I drank greedily. "Good for you."

"Why?" I asked, watching him carefully over the rim of my glass.

He took a few sips, then took an olive and popped it into his mouth. "Because you need me," he said, simply.

I snorted. "Who said I needed you?"

Draco smirked. Clearly, he could read my mind and knew that he was right. "You wouldn't jump into snog sessions with me otherwise."

I cast around for an excuse, but I could think of nothing. He had solid evidence. I loved what he did to me.

I reached for a grape, but his hands stopped me. "Allow me," he said, his smirk growing by the second. He placed the grape in his mouth and signalled with his fingers for me to come and get it. I grinned and leaning in to place my mouth on his. Unknowingly, he'd reached for the glass of wine, and just when I was about an inch from his face he abruptly poured the wine all over me.

I yelped, moving away from him and staring in disbelief as the magenta liquid slowly stained my white shirt, spreading over my arms and chest. Angrily, I moved to hit him, but he grabbed my arms before I could get close enough. Pinning me and my arms to the couch, he lowered his mouth to my collarbone and started lapping up the wine.

I tried getting away from him, or at least freeing my arms, but he continued licking his way over my neck. Breathing heavily, like I was, he looked up briefly from my neck. "Just the way I like it," he said, licking his lips.

Working his way down my chest, he started pulling down my shirt when I managed to free my arms from his grasp. Pushing him off of me, I stood up quickly and realised my mistake. My head spun, either from the wine or Draco's seductive advances. Or both.

I started moving away from the couch when I felt his arms grab both my hands and capture them in his own, behind my back, like handcuffs. As he pushed me towards the bed, I shuddered. On the one hand, I was willing to do whatever to get Draco's body back on mine. On the other, I knew in the back of my mind that all this was only lust, and I should stay true to loving Harry.

But then the image of Harry and Romilda holding hands floated through my mind again, and I forced away my green-eyed crush, thinking of how large Draco's hands were. It was Draco, and not Harry, that was the one that had brought me to this amazing place.

It was not long before he finally let go of my hands and pushed me roughly on the bed.

This was going to be a long night.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **ok, so posting after awhile. im nearly done with this story. i've got the rest of it pretty well planned out. thanks to all those who reviewed in the previous chapters! reviewing gives me inspiration and motivation to write. so please, PLEASE review!!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Ooh...this felt good. I can say that, now that I'm dead and everything, that that night was one of the best nights I ever had.

As Draco kissed me roughly, I felt myself swoon from the pleasure. His hard body pressed against my every line, and his lips, though forceful, were so insanely soft that I couldn't help kissing him back with equal fervour. My hands knotted in his pale hair, silky to the touch. He was heavy, but I enjoyed his weight pressing me down onto the bed. It felt so wrong, it was right. Here I was, snogging my so-called enemy. Wow. I'm so proud.

"You like this, don't you?" he said gruffly, licking my jaw as his hands moved over my arms.

I was so immersed in his touches that I couldn't reply, and only managed a groan as he pulled lightly on my bottom lip with his teeth. He rolled over, pulling me with him, and I adjusted my body over his, my toes only reaching his knees. My face was flushed, heated red as he blew coolly on it. His hands travelled down my shirt, and I moaned in pleasure, closing my eyes.

"You're a right bastard, you know that?" I whispered in a low voice, opening my eyes to glare at him intensely.

He stroked a hand down my cheek, almost mockingly. "You know you love it," he said, sneering.

I slapped his hand away and pushed myself off him, crawling on all fours towards the head of the bed. I heard him chuckle behind me as he glared after my retreating body. I plopped myself on one of the pillows, watching him at the foot of the bed. He was squinting at me, not from anger, but from sheer pleasure at my childishness. Small lines framed his eyes as he smirked at me.

I smoothed down my wine-stained shirt. The deep-purple material stuck to my chest, and I longed to take it off, although preferably not here.

As I glossed over his perfect features, questions popped into my mind involuntarily. The low glow of the room was making me dizzy (or perhaps it was my terribly seductive roommate), but I forced my eyes open.

"Why are you here?" I asked him. Immediately his face changed; an abrupt reaction. He was no longer sneering and smirking; in its place was an expressionless mask.

"I don't have to answer that," he said, narrowing his eyes further.

I cocked my eyebrows at him. "Why now? Why here? Why is it that you brought all those Death Eaters here? Are you still in with You-Know-Who? And how could you have killed -?"

"I DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER THAT, AND I WILL NOT ANSWER THAT!"

I stared at him, shocked. His eyes were flashing; anger seeped out from them. His mouth was contorted furiously, his nose wrinkled from the fury. He was breathing deeply, trying to regain composure.

"I did NOT kill Dumbledore," he said, his voice cracking from the anger suppressed within. "Snape did."

"I know that," I said defensively. Harry had told me. Or at least, it had been passed by Hermione from Harry. Damn imbecile. Why did I love Harry so much?

"Did you ever think what would happen if I told someone?" I asked. I was treading on dangerous ground now, I knew it. He could burst again at any time.

"What?" he spat.

I gulped. "That you're here?"

He shook violently, his fists clenching on the bed. I tucked my legs in, starting to wonder if Draco could be possible of actually causing serious physical harm.

Suddenly he leapt, jumping off the ground and landing on the bed. He crawled towards me and stopped, two inches from my face, in a feral crouch. My lips trembled, and I strained not to breathe in front of him.

"If you dare tell anyone," he growled, and I suddenly noticed that one of his hands had crept up to my neck, "then I will personally see to your death," he finished, traces of his sneer returning.

I swallowed, determined to pester him until I got my answer. Or any answer, for that matter. "But why me? Were you expecting me that night? Or were you going to pick any girl that happened to walk the halls at night?"

His face relaxed somewhat. Maybe this was a question that had an easier answer.

"I never found you," he said, his grip on my neck relaxing. He left the hand on my collarbone, however. "You found me. I'd never dreamed that you, the fiery, red-tempered, Weaslette would happen to be taking a midnight stroll. You are the icing on the cake. The cherry on top."

I didn't know if I should take this analogy in a good way or a bad way. I decided not to think about it, and plunged on with my questions.

"To what, though? What am I the icing on the cake for?"

His face darkened again, and I felt his hand on my neck tighten again. "My former comment still stands. I don't have to answer your questions." Draco trailed his gaze over my face, letting slide over my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my lips, my chin, and lower still. Despite the past few weeks of intermittent lust, I suddenly felt uncomfortable with his eyes roaming over me. I had never seen this side of him. True, he was known to be a real pain in the arse, before he'd left. I'd hated him then. He was so mean to Harry, and he despised my family, as did we. I barely talked to him before. And now...

It was only lust, I told myself. I loved Harry. That part I was sure about. I wasn't falling in love with Draco too? Was I? It was impossible. Our frequent meetings had been purely physical. I realized that the only thing I ever enjoyed with him was the lusty desire that flowed freely between us. After all, was it such a crime to indulge your body with some manly heat, when it was lacking? Harry wouldn't have me. Well, I had to do something, right?

When he saw my eyes flickering, and my body starting to turn away from him, he immediately changed tactics.

"Enough questions," he murmured. Taking my face in both his hands, he kissed me in a chaste, unfamiliar way. Our kisses were always so heated, so full of unadulterated passion. This was a new kind of kiss, and it didn't help with my resolve to not fall in love with my enemy.

His tongue was slipping into my mouth when suddenly he pulled away, hissing. I saw him turn away from me, grasping something in his arms. After a moment, he turned around, pain etched on his face.

"I think you should go now, Ginny," he said, his silver eyes not meeting mine. I made to touch his arm, but he jerked away from me.

"Just get out!" he yelled, getting up off the bed. My body groaned in protest, missing his warm heat, but I got up all the same. Confused, I walked back towards the door. As I was about to shut the door behind me, I looked one more time at the beautiful haven Draco had created. I noticed the wine he had poured over me drying on the silky divan where we had lay. The tangerine chiffon gave the room a heavenly feel. Sighing, I pulled the door shut behind me, but not before seeing Draco pacing the room furiously, talking in angry whispers to someone who had been present the whole time.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **im on a writing spree! which is totally uncalled for and at a very bad timing since i now have exams! aaahhh! o well. maybe all that thinking is giving me inspiration. anyways **KEEP REVIEWING PLEASE!! **it makes me happy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

The week flew by. There were dreadful Potions classes in the dungeons, and the hazy fumes made me feel light-headed. Charms was a breeze, of course. Flitwick was too easy-going to make any of the students feel any pressure. McGonagall, however, was not so lenient. We had to figure out the proper way to transfigure parts of our face. This was typically dangerous, so we weren't allowed to try it anywhere but in the classroom. Neville accidentally replaced his nose with a beak, and his voice sounded especially nasally that day.

I went to visit Harry in the Hospital Wing every day until he was deemed fit enough to leave. For the first day, he'd been asleep, so I'd just sat near his bed, watching his face change expressions while he dreamed Merlin knows what. The next day, he'd finally woken up, and I flooded him with apologies.

"I'm so sorry, Harry!" I said, as soon as his eyes had flickered open. "I didn't mean to collide into you! We shouldn't have tried to outfly each other. It was such a stupid idea, I shouldn't have–,"

"Ginny," he croaked. My eyes rested on his face, my heart accelerating from hearing my name coming from him. His voice...I'd missed it. With a rush of affection and love, I reached out to push a strand of jet-black hair off his forehead. He managed a crooked grin.

"Oh, Harry! I really didn't mean to! I felt so bad afterward," I blubbered on. He stopped me with a finger to my lips, hushing me. My lips tingled where he'd touched me.

"S'ok," he said, his voice cracking. "Got to miss classes."

I smiled. He was still the same old Harry. Never blaming others. Always playful. Terribly strong.

"That's the spirit," I said weakly. His jade eyes poured into mine, and I felt my cheeks blush intensely. Our smiles reflected each other.

Harry looked around the Hospital Wing. "No Ron?" he asked.

"He has Herbology," I replied. "Although he came here earlier. Stayed for about an hour."

"Hermione?" he persisted.

"Arithmancy. She's coming later on today. She came earlier with Ron today too."

Harry glanced around the room again, sneaking a peek at me before asking the question. "Any...uh...other visitors?" he asked, looking very fishy.

I narrowed my eyes. "Like who?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, clearing his throat conspicuously. I felt rather awkward, so I'd changed the subject.

Now that he was out of the Hospital Wing, things went back to the way they were. I barely talked to Harry after that, but I'd notice that sometimes I'd catch him looking my way in the Common Room, or sending me glances across the Great Hall. This would have made so much more sense if he weren't seeing stupid Romilda. Urg, how I hated that...cow!

I couldn't go to class without running into the two of them...holding hands or pecking like two birds. It was disgusting. I was growing more jealous by the day. It even bothered me when he talked to Hermione for too long, or when I saw them both in the Common Room, heads together, whispering in heated discussions.

I was studying in the Common Room one night, trudging through my Defense Against the Dark Arts, when I heard a portrait door creaking open. I didn't look up. It was probably just a late third year.

"Hey Ginny."

I looked up, startled. It was...Harry. Immediately my heart started pumping ten times faster and my brain sped into hyperactive mode. I felt the blood creep into my cheeks instantaneously and my self-conscious side kick in.

"Uh..."I cleared my throat, "hi..."

"What're you doing?"

I glanced down, trying to remember what I'd been doing before he showed up. "I was, um, finishing an essay. _Defensive Tactics Under an Influence_."

"Oh. Well if you're busy..." he said, starting to get up.

"No!" I paused and looked around shiftily. He couldn't leave! He'd just gotten here. "I mean, no...uh...why don't you stay? I'm not busy."

He sat back down again and folded both hands on the table, sitting across from me. As he twirled his thumbs absent-mindedly, I watched him. His dark hair swung in scattered disarray over his forehead, and his emerald eyes were glistening under his long lashes. His glasses rested on his perfectly straight nose, and his thin, red lips were slightly open.

I'm melting! Someone get a mop!

"So..." he started, "I wanted to talk to you."

I nodded for him to continue. My voice had disappeared.

"I've been noticing you for the past few days, and, well..." he trailed off, avoiding my gaze by staring at my quill.

"Well what?" I asked. There was a long pause.

"You seem kind of sad," he said, finally looking up. I was blown away by the intensity in his eyes that was now focusing on me. "You don't talk to as many people as before, and when you do, it's distant, as if you're not there." He paused here to look down again at his entwined hands. "I know I don't talk to you much anymore, but you seem kind of angry at me."

I frowned. Boys. How stupid were they?

"Well, why do you _think_ I'm mad?" I said, adopting a sarcastic tone.

He looked at me for a very long time. I shifted my eyes. The intensity was too strong for me to bear. Silence reigned as he pondered my words.

"You're not...jealous are you?" he finally burst out, looking as if I was nuts. His expression triggered fury in me, and anger boiled white hot inside my body. How dare he just put it out there like that? What was his problem?

"Well you're subtle, aren't you?" I hissed, slapping a hand down on the table.

"But, why?" he asked, looking truly confused. This only made things worse.

"Why do you think, Harry? What do you expect your ex-girlfriend to feel? You broke up with me to tell me that you had the world to save. You're the Boy-Who-Lived. And to apparently "protect" me, you can't go out with me anymore. Did you ever bother to think about _my_ feelings? What if I don't _want_ to be protected? All I wanted was for us to be together, and happy! So I let it go...well, whatever. Let this wash over him, I thought. He'll come back eventually. But then, I suddenly see you with...with...Romilda!" I spat out the name, and his shocked face fuelled my outburst. "How could you, Harry? After all you said, you went back and did the same thing? Guess Romilda doesn't have to be "protected", eh Harry? Guess You-Know-Who's not gonna get her!"

I was satisfied to be finally getting my feelings out on the table, but Harry's expression was unbelievable. He was staring at me, eyes open wide. My breathing was ragged, and I sat back down again, since I'd gotten up during my little speech.

"But...Ginny...I...I" he stuttered. I interrupted him halfway.

"Just go away, Harry," I muttered, disgusted with him. "You're just a filthy hypocrite."

He frowned, eyebrows knitting together, and he slowly got up. I didn't look at him, and concentrated on my book as my ears strained to hear his chair scrape on the floor. I heard the portrait door close behind me with a snap.

And as I rested my head on the book I was reading, tired and still furious, tears rolled down my cheeks as I lay on the table in a puddle of pure rejection.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **sorry for the delay, but i've been so busy, i havent had the time to write about ginny's life. anyways im back, and i've already written 2 or 3 chapters so be prepared for quick updates. and yet again **PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

I didn't think about Draco all week.

Life at Hogwarts plodded on. Wake up, go have breakfast, go to morning classes, have lunch, go to afternoon classes, have dinner, do homework, sleep. I trudged along with the routine, starting to become a zombie. No Harry, no Draco. Life was dull as hell.

It killed me to have to walk by Harry when he was being attacked by Romilda. She'd grab his face and squash her lips to his in front of everyone. I noticed with little satisfaction that Harry never seemed quite _there_ when she did this, at least when I was around. After he'd be attacked, he'd give me long glances, to which I'd put an abrupt end by looking resolutely in the other direction.

I knew I was way too deep into this to be able to drag myself out. I was completely, utterly, absolutely in love with Harry. I was also damn jealous.

It was true that I didn't think about Draco for the whole week, but when Friday night came, I was suddenly reminded of how last Friday had went, and that brought on a flood of memories. Draco touching me, Draco kissing me, Draco smiling his infamous smirk.

I stopped myself. No. I was in love with Harry.

I looked at it logically. All I'd had with Draco were bursts of passion. There was no solid base to our relationship, if I could even call it that. It was more of a lusty obsession. I knew Draco was supposed to be my enemy...but was he really? I was supposed to hate him no matter what, despise him for even greeting me. I didn't though. I knew that somewhere deep down under all those shields of arrogance and evil, he had a weakness. Maybe there was some good in him. I believed in that. I believed in the good of his soul. Perhaps it was only a small part, but it was there. I knew it for sure.

If there _were_ any feelings for Draco, it was only hints of a romance. Maybe it was true. Maybe I was falling for Draco. But that was it. I was starting to fall for him. My mind was tricking me into it. I did not actually love him. Like him, maybe, but not love. Harry had already taken over the throne of love in my heart.

And so, there I sat, on a Friday night with absolutely nothing to do but study. But who studied on Friday nights? There were only two other people in the Common Room: Ron and Hermione. They had retreated into the far corner of the room, huddled together and whispering to each other. Merlin knows what else they were doing when I turned my back on them, and I didn't want to know either. The laughter and giggling was starting to become sickening. When I heard the word "Ronnykins" in a sickly sweet voice, I couldn't take it anymore. I got off the chair and walked resolutely out the portrait door.

I walked, yet again like a zombie. I had come in the dimly faint hope that I would somehow encounter Draco again, or that I would suddenly feel his familiar hands tight around my waist again. I knew I was clutching at nothing with this hope, but I trudged on, wandering the halls. The night was very much alike to the night when I had first stumbled upon Draco. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the dark night sky, and it was a full moon. The faint rays shone silver through the windows, lighting the hallways.

Somehow, in my semi-trancelike state, I'd wandered over to the seventh floor. I mentally bumped myself on the head. Was I _trying_ to somehow bring back Draco? I strolled down the corridor and stopped when I saw light emanating from a room further down the hallway.

The Room of Requirement.

The long shaft of yellowy light extended across the whole hallway. I tiptoed quietly down the corridor, thanking the founders of Hogwarts in my heart for carpeting the floors. The thick crimson carpet muffled my steps, and I managed to make it to the door. Whoever the occupant was, they had obviously not realised that the door was still open. The spell cast upon the Room of Requirement caused the door to be visible to anyone passing it unless it was fully closed. I leaned my head in. The slight opening was too narrow for me to look, and there was no keyhole, so I settled for pressing my ear to the heavy door. My heart thudded to a stop when I realised who was inside.

Draco Malfoy.

"-no more time left! The Dark Lord has been waiting long enough!"

"I know!" groaned the agonized voice of Draco. He seemed to be talking to another person with a much gruffer voice.

"If you don't do it soon enough, he will kill you himself! This is the most important mission he has ever entrusted to a Death Eater! If you fail, the consequences will be disastrous!"

"I know!" said Draco's voice again, a bit irritated this time. "I just...need some time!"

"Time?" the other voice said stupendously. "You don't have time! What have you been doing these past few weeks? Where have you been whiling away your precious _time_? With that Weasley girl? For Merlin's sake, Draco, she's a blood traitor!"

"I was just using her! I thought she was still seeing Potter!" growled Draco. He started mumbling something incoherent, and I leaned my head in closer, straining to hear what he was saying, but it was unintelligible.

There was suddenly the sound of books being thrashed to the ground. I heard Draco yelling angrily as he probably broke something fragile.

"Calm down!" said the other man. "I know you can do it."

The sounds of things breaking ceased. "I know _I_ can do it. But afterwards..." trailed off Draco's voice.

"Just think of all the things you hate about him!" said the other man. "Just think... 'I'm killing the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm killing Harry Potter.'"

The sound of my gasp was too loud. My face was etched in shock; my head was pounding more furiously than ever before. Terror, pain, and fear seized my heart. My gasp echoed in the hallway. Suddenly there was silence in the room.

"Who's there?" the man's voice called. I heard footsteps coming closer, and without thinking, I started running back towards the Common Room.

"Stop! Weasley!" I heard Draco's voice call. Tripping down the stairs, I looked back once over my shoulder. He was running towards me at full speed, blond hair flying in waves behind him. The other man followed, sprinting after me. I pelted onwards, not sparing any more glances and taking care not to trip on the stairs. As I ran, I noticed some portraits exclaiming, annoyed, at me. I didn't care. I just ran as fast as I could. Blood rushed to my head, my breathing was becoming ragged. I huffed and puffed, dashing through the corridors: left, right, straight, right, left.

"Get back here at once!" I heard one of the voices call. I couldn't tell who it was because I was running so fast. My legs were starting to give out; I lumbered on, trying desperately not to stop. I could still hear Draco and the other man, presumably a Death Eater, hot on my trail. I noticed a crevice in the walls and, thanks to the dark, I crammed myself in without them noticing.

"Where'd she go?" asked the Death Eater. I peeked around the wall and saw the man turning around quickly on the spot, looking in random directions. Draco was doing the same, his heavenly features contorted in an evil way. I couldn't believe I'd fallen for it. For him. What a perfect betrayal.

"We'll split up," he said, gesturing to the Death Eater to go the other way. Draco ran past me, and I sucked in my breath and pressed myself to the wall as hard as I could. When all was clear, I carefully peeked first my head around the corner and started running in the same direction as Draco, but taking a turn towards the Gryffindor Common Room. I had to find Harry. I had to warn him.

It was my only hope.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **im not really good at writing action, so u have to forgive me for the next few chapters. enjoy!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"Let me in," I said to the Fat Lady, banging on her portrait. She glared down at me crossly. The other portraits around me were giving me the same look; some were even saying "Tsk, tsk".

"You are not getting in with _that_ kind of behaviour, young lady," said the Fat Lady, dusting off invisible dirt from her crinoline.

"Just let me in! Please! This is an emergency!" I said, trying desperately to pry the portrait off the wall and kicking myself mentally for forgetting the password. When the Fat Lady realized what I was doing, she hissed angrily.

"How dare you attempt to deface the ancient walls of Hog -,"

But I wasn't listening. I'd just spotted a flash of light against glass: Harry's spectacles. I was dumbstruck for a moment, watching his untidy mop of hair move away from me at the other end of the corridor, climbing the stairs mechanically. I pelted after him, the Fat Lady exclaiming "Now really!" after me.

I didn't dare call out Harry's name aloud; who knew where Malfoy was hiding? Harry was climbing the stairs so fast that I could barely catch up to him; my attempts to grasp his shirt were fruitless. He was moving with unnatural grace, and all I could see of him in the dark was his messy hair and his black cloak. I concentrated on the back of his head, willing him to turn around, but I didn't risk the whisper.

Malfoy had attempted to murder Dumbledore. Had You-Know-Who set Malfoy up with another assignment? A bigger, better, more convenient plan? If Malfoy could have smuggled an army of Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he could undoubtedly find me in the castle.

I followed Harry silently, beginning to wonder just where he was going. As I crept silently behind him, I suddenly realized he was heading to the Astronomy Tower.

Odd. Isn't this where Dumbledore had fallen to his death?

He'd reached the door to the Tower. I fell back, and kept a distance as he opened the door. There, waiting for him, was Romilda Vane.

"Harry, darling! You're early!" she exclaimed joyfully. I crouched near the door, which was ajar, making sure I was concealed from sight. I could not see Harry's face still, but he had just grasped Romilda's hands.

"Romilda...I have to tell you something," he said, his voice unnaturally monotonous. "I love you, Romilda."

I felt it right then and there: my body ripping in two, my heart screaming in protest as the two pieces detached.

Romilda giggled. "Are you sure, Harry? I thought you still had feelings for Ginny?"

"I have never loved her. She is a filthy blood traitor."

I could feel my jaw drop; my face, tormented as it already was, burned red. I couldn't believe my ears. Was this Harry I was hearing?

"Oh, Harry!" said Romilda in a mock reproachful tone. "You really shouldn't say that."

"I love you, Romilda," said Harry again, his voice low.

I couldn't take it anymore. Blustering, blundering, I left my position near the door, Harry's words still ringing in my ears. I heard Romilda giggle again, but I was already half way down the flight of stairs. I was tripping over the stairs, grasping at the wall, my chest heaving, my heart pounding.

I'd passed a door to my left when I suddenly realised what I had to do, and my head was clear again. Purpose filled my being as I opened the door to the classroom, walking past the rows and rows of desks until I reached the professor's table. The floor-to-ceiling windows had been left open, and moonlight shone eerily on the floor.

I quickly scrawled out whatever I had heard, editing on necessity. Draco's pans to murder Harry, the fact that he had smuggled a Death Eater into the castle...and so on. I would have written more...but I stopped myself. Harry did not need to know all this. I ripped the parchment up, threw it across the room and started anew. A simple sentence. Maybe two. That's all he needed to know.

Rolling up the scroll in my hand, I paced back towards the door, closing it behind me as I walked back up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

My zombie-like trance was back again, except this time a dark cloud hovered above my head. A symbol of my madness, a sign of pure insanity. And yet I believed in it wholly, I could do no wrong: my choice was correct.

I left the scroll leaning against the Astronomy Tower door. Then, in a calm fashion, I began marching all the way down the stairs. Passing moonlit corridors, countless snoozing portraits, locked classrooms and a whistling Peeves (who thankfully did not notice me), I made my way down to the huge doors opposite the Great Hall.

It was foolish to think I would succeed. And yet, with some unknown coincidence, the doors were open, and I pushed my way out into the Hogwarts grounds. The cool night air blew across my face, the starry night sky stretching across the heavens. I closed my eyes for an instant and simply breathed in the beauty of this night.

It would be my last.

**Harry's POV**

"_Finite Incantatem!_"

He shook his head once, twice, and blinked several times before focusing on the concerned face of Romilda Vane.

"Harry? Are you all right?" she asked, gazing into his eyes.

He looked around; he seemed to be in the Astronomy Tower. Looking down, he saw the grounds stretching endlessly in front of him, merging into the dark Forbidden Forest.

"What happened?" he asked Romilda. She stuck her wand into her robe before answering.

"I think you'd been Imperiused. Do you remember seeing anyone before coming up here?"

Harry blinked again. He'd been Imperiused? But...who? And why would they Imperius him?

"What exactly did I do?" he asked her, clearing his throat nervously.

Immediately a blush crept up Romilda's face. She turned away from him, leaning against the rough brick.

"You...um...saidyoulovedme."

"What?" asked Harry. It had sounded like...but he'd thought he'd done much worse...

Romilda turned to face him properly now. "You said you loved me."

Harry's answer died in his throat. This was not how he felt at all. But how could he explain this to Romilda?

She continued. "I only realized a lot later that your eyes were very...blank. Good thing I ended it curse. Who knows what the person controlling you would have made you do."

Harry frowned at this thought. Had Voldemort thought of a new plan?

"I should go," he said. He was thankful that Romilda didn't stop him. He was about to open the door when he realized there was a scroll leaning against it. Picking it up, he unfurled it and began to read, his eyes widening with each word.

_Harry – _

_Malfoy is planning to kill you tonight. He may kill me as well. Leave Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione as soon as you can._

_- Ginny_

"...he may kill me as well," he read to himself, horrified. What would Malfoy want with Ginny? Terror seized his heart. He wouldn't let Malfoy touch Ginny...his Ginny, with whom he'd grown up, half admiring, half loving. A beautiful, strong young woman who'd had her heart broken by him. No...he wouldn't allow that.

"Harry!" called Romilda's voice. He turned back around to see her pointing down towards the grounds. He walked over to her and looked down to where she was pointing.

A lone, pale figure was walking gracefully across the grounds. Her lithe body moved quickly, quietly towards the gates of Hogsmeade. Harry could almost sense, from so far away, the silent sense of purpose that was present in her gait. He immediately started running down the stairs away from the Astronomy Tower.

It was time for Harry Potter to come into the picture.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** nearing the end now...

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

**Chapter 20**

**Ginny**

It had been too easy to confund the bartender of the Hog's Head to let me in. The pub wasn't too crowded, only a wizened old warlock and a haggard witch sat in the corner. I now paced inside one of the rooms upstairs, unsure of how exactly I was going phrase my words. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that parchment and a quill lay waiting for me on a battered old desk, calling out for me to write.

There was a dusty bed in the center of the room, the aforementioned desk, and a lumpy chair in the far corner. Sighing, I leaped onto the bed, praying that Malfoy wouldn't find me.

Suddenly, I heard a click. Looking up, I saw the door handle being slowly turned. Terror filled my heart. So this was it. Death faced me clearly in the face, and I waited, still, lying on the bed.

And there he was, all tall and pale and handsome and hateful. His face was fearfully calm, a mask of composed hate. I could tell that there was a storm brewing inside of him, but he was a master of concealment, I knew that now. Now that it was too late.

"Weaslette," he spat, advancing on me. In my vulnerable position, it was amazing that I managed to say anything.

"Death Eater," I said with equal venom.

He smirked. "That isn't something which I fear, or loathe. I am proud to be a Death Eater."

"Oh really?" I said quietly. As silence reigned, and we stared down each other, I knew that he was wrong. I knew that he secretly despised being what he was, but he would never admit this. For a moment I felt pity for him, realizing how difficult it must be: to live up to your father's name even if it is the evilest thing one could do. He had a reputation to uphold, or else he himself would be killed.

But who was I kidding? This man wanted to kill me!

He drew closer until he was right above the bed, examining me as if I was another potion to be brewed, or else a particularly sought-after broom. I narrowed my eyes, beginning to move slowly away from him on the bed. But his face changed, his smirk returned, and he crawled onto the bed. Fear was starting to envelop me. How long would he play with his food before he ate it?

"Scared, blood-traitor? Frightened about what this Death Eater's going to do to you?" he hissed. He was only a few inches away now, and he lifted his hand to caress the back of my cheek. It wasn't a warm gesture, however, it was pure evil: death's caress.

I moved my cheek away as if his hand was burning. I had reached the headboard of the bed now, I could move back no further. I pulled my knees tightly towards me, withdrawing myself from him as far as possible.

"Come now, Weaslette. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his smile widening maliciously. The fake reassurance did not help. I began to move sideways away from him, but he caught me with one arm.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, leaning forward. Suddenly he mashed his lips to mine. I could feel his tongue forcing its way into my mouth as I tried pushing him away; it only made it worse. His hands grabbed me, holding me steady as I tried squirming away from him. I could barely breathe; his body was crushing mine. His weight pinned me down, his hands holding mine firmly behind my back. Thinking of my sad plight, I did the first that came to mind: I bit his tongue.

"Akh!" he hissed, moving away from me rapidly, clutching his mouth. The moment he'd moved away, I made to get off the bed. He caught me, however, but not before I managed a slap across his face.

Panting, I successfully got off the bed, and went to stand near the desk. He was huffing lightly as well.

"Didn't think I'd put up an easy fight, did you?" I asked, and this time it was my turn to sneer. He got up, his face positively terrifying. Swaggering over to me, he grabbed my waist with both his hands.

"You're a crazy bitch, you know that?" he said, his breath hot against my skin. I looked away from his burning gaze, attempting to free myself from his grip, but it was vice-like.

"You're planning to kill Harry!" I exclaimed. He laughed drily.

"So? He doesn't love you, remember?"

My eyes rounded in shock at this. How did he know?

"But…" he continued, the corners of his lips rising upwards, "I can't let you walk away, alive, knowing that you overheard my plans."

My heart started pounding at his words. Suddenly his lips were on mine again. I tried to bite his bottom lip again, but this time I was the one who received a slap on the cheek.

"How dare you, filthy blood-traitor!" he shouted, outraged. My face flew to the side as I received another punch in the face. Blood poured freely from my nose, my head was starting to spin.

"I won't let you kill Harry!" I yelled, through what was left of my voice. Malfoy suddenly grabbed my throat, thrusting me against the wall. My feet were dangling as I felt my lungs gasping for oxygen. I choked, spluttered, the blood rushing to my head.

"You. Can't. STOP. ME!" he roared, emphasizing each word by roughly banging my head against the wall behind me. I felt something warm trickling down the back of my skull: blood.

I aimed a kick at his groin, and my knee found its mark. Gasping in pain, he let me go, and I collapsed to the ground, clutching at my throat.

Still breathing heavily, I suddenly felt a push. I opened my eyes to see Malfoy standing above me. He seemed to have recovered. He kicked me again, pushing me against the wall on the ground as I cowered below him. I received another blow on the stomach, and I doubled over from the pain.

Finally, when I was limp, too tired to fight back, he dragged me across the room. I felt something hard press against my chest. I opened my eyes.

"Last chance, Weaslette. Either you come with me quietly, and I kill Potter, or you go to the land of the dead," said Malfoy, no longer smirking, but a deadly mask on his face.

His shoe was placed on my chest. He wasn't going to kill me; I knew it. His wand wasn't out.

"Go to hell, Malfoy."

Blinding pain overwhelmed me as I felt his shoe sink into me, crushing my ribs, pounding my lungs. My head and legs arched up from the floor from the sheer force of it. I felt my mouth filling with blood, coughing as I tried spitting it out.

I heard the door creak shut as Malfoy left, and as the pain took over my battered body, I slipped away into unconsciousness.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **sorry for the huuuge delay, i've just been so busy with...life...that i totally forgot i still hadn't finished this. here the 2nd last chapter, and dont forget to review!!

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

**

* * *

Chapter 21**

_**Harry**_

"MALFOY!" Harry shouted as he thundered across the Hogwarts grounds.

Malfoy turned around slowly on the spot, his wand held tightly in his hand. As Harry watched him, he saw Malfoy's face: a grim mask of fury.

"There you are Potty. I was wondering how long it would take you to get out of the castle," said Malfoy, half hissing, half shouting.

"Clever plan, Malfoy, very clever," said Harry, as they slowly advanced on each other. The cool wind blew over them; it made Harry's skin prickle and his hair stand up on end. Gripping his wand tighter than ever, he kept his eyes focused upon Malfoy.

"What's clever, Potter, is that you fell for my bait. And you still don't realise that you're too late," said Malfoy. They were now a few feet apart. Stars were scattered across the navy blue sky above them, there was no sound except for the wind.

"I'm not late, Malfoy. You are."

Harry gazed right into Malfoy's silver ones. He was sure he caught his eyes shifting from left to right. Suddenly without warning, Malfoy shouted.

"_Crucio_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The two spells collided and bounced off each other. Harry ducked, just missing his own disarming charm. He looked up to see Malfoy already standing.

"Found out, have you, Potter?" asked Malfoy, a smug grin plastered on his face. He was approaching Harry slowly now, his wand pointed towards him.

"Found out what?" spat Harry. He was walking towards Malfoy slowly as well. The wind picked up at that moment, and it made Harry's eyes sting. Dark as it was, the navy sky extending infinitely above, the lights from the castle lit up both their faces.

"Found out that it's all over. It was all planned," said Draco, his grin getting larger. "I've been coming to Hogwarts for quite a while now. And one nice night, I happened upon the last person I thought I would encounter. Your dear ol' lady love, Weaslette," said Draco, laughing as Harry snarled.

"That was the night Ron and I found her in the corridor!" he yelled.

"Had quite a bit of fun with her -,"

"ARGH!" exclaimed Harry as he went rolling into Draco, punching him with as much strength as he could muster. The two collided heavily, and Harry pummelled every inch of Draco that he could come in contact with. Heaving, Draco managed to get away from underneath Harry's burst of blind rage.

He was laughing.

"That's nothing, Potter! She's been coming to see me every Friday night. Yes, Potter, your little Weaslette has become the great Draco Malfoy's bitch! Ha!" cackled Malfoy, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth while Harry breathed heavily, still on the ground.

"Go to hell, Malfoy," muttered Harry, getting up to face his archenemy.

"If you don't believe me, Potter, I can easily tell you that she has a birthmark below her belly button and a mole on her right thigh," said Draco, his grin so wide that his teeth shone.

"And if only you knew, Potter, that she heard you proclaiming your love to none other than Romilda Vane. Of course, she being the fiery Weaslette, she can't stand the love of her life being taken away from her. She must be writing her will right now..."

Harry growled and threw a punch at Draco's face. Draco, momentarily stunned, shook his head and banged his head against Harry's, making him fall back, although they both remained standing.

"Where is she?" demanded Harry, raising his wand arm just as Draco did.

When Draco said nothing, Harry aimed a kick at him, hitting his mark on Draco's right knee. Draco gasped in pain and retreated a few steps, although his wand arm remained steady.

"WHERE IS SHE?" roared Harry, stalking right up to Draco to stick his wand at his enemy's neck. At last, Draco's eyes revealed some fear. He was looking from side to side and kept shooting furtive glances towards Harry's wand.

But of course, Draco, being the master of concealment, had decent acting skills. With his wand tucked closely at his side, he pointed it at Harry, making sure it could not be seen. With a blast, Harry was blown backwards. He thudded to the ground a moment later, just as Draco began advancing on him.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Two bodies went flying in opposite directions, one of the paths of light red, the other green. They flew high in the air before collapsing on the ground at the same time like lifeless ragdolls.

All was quiet. Silence grew slowly over the scene; even the wind whispering its way through the trees from the Forbidden Forest and far-off, distant sounds of waves coming from the Great Lake could not be heard. For one single moment in time, the world revolved around those two corpses.

But were they both corpses? One of the bodies stirred, the breathing returning to normal, the pulse beginning to beat again. Blood poured profusely from his forehead and arms. Sweat forming on his brow turned immediately cold from the wind that was returning again. The sounds were back...the silence disappearing.

Harry weakly stood up, losing his step more than once. His head was reeling, he felt like he had swallowed three gallons of butterbeer. He stumbled over to the dark pile lying a few feet away from him.

Draco's own Killing Curse had backfired on him, and there he lay; the future of the legacy of Malfoys: extinguished forever.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary:** She killed herself the day he said "I love you"...to someone else.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-levelled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

_**Ginny**_

From my position on the floor, I couldn't see the top of the desk. My battered hand groped along the surface of the desk, searching for the quill and the parchment. I felt a roughness and something feathery. Pulling on the two items, I brought them down to my level on the floor. Apparently the ink bottle had been sitting on the parchment, for it came tumbling down and shattered on the ground near the leg of the chair.

Forcing my head up slightly, I took the quill and scratched it along the pool of ink that had puddled around the ink bottle. Placing the parchment in front of me, I began to write.

The words came freely; there was nothing to think about, after all. It was like penning my life story, in short. My mind was miraculously clear as word after word appeared on the parchment. In my moment of distress, I even managed to dot my 'i's and cross my 't's. Was this madness? Probably. But I just hadn't realized it yet.

Though my chest hurt like a dozen sharp and icy knives were piercing through it, my mind remained clear enough for me to finish the letter.

It was the last thing I had to do.

_**Harry**_

Where could she be? He hadn't even gotten her location out of Malfoy. She could have been anywhere. Harry ran across the Hogwarts grounds, back towards the castle. He would check everywhere in the castle and then move on to the Forbidden Forest. If it would take all night, he would keep searching.

He couldn't believe he had been so clueless. Ginny had loved him all along, and he had loved Ginny all along as well. He had known it, deep in his heart, and yet he had never let himself admit it. He had thought he was doing the right thing, by letting her go so that she could be safe, but he had not wanted it.

It had always been Ginny, since the first day of his first year at Hogwarts, when she had come with Mrs. Weasley to say goodbye to Ron and his brothers. He had always thought she resembled to his mother in the slightest way; perhaps that was what had drawn him to her.

Sweet, kind, gentle Ginny. Fiery, hot-tempered, seductive Ginny. He had loved every single side of her, every single, shining facet. She was his secret, his fire, his queen...and she was all his.

Now all that remained was that he find her.

_**Ginny**_

He had said it himself; he thought I was a filthy blood traitor. He did not love me. Had he ever even loved me?

As I lay on my back, I could feel the dried blood on the corners of my lips. My insides hurt in gut-wrenching pain. I was quite sure more than a few ribs were broken. Had one of them pierced my heart? I could barely move a muscle as each limb was heavily battered and bruised.

Turning my head to the side, I inspected the long, clean slit down my arm. Crimson coloured liquid seeped through the cut, flowing down my arm and onto the wooden floor.

I knew I was dying, I could feel my senses slowly beginning to fade. Soon my vision became blurry, and I could no longer feel the wooden boards beneath me.

The anticipation of death hung over me. _Save me from this pain_, I kept thinking, _so that I can go to a better place_.

This was the end; I knew it, because faint images were flashing by in my mind. My mother, my father, and all my beloved brothers. My first day at Hogwarts, the first time I rode a broom, my first kiss...Countless memories, sixteen years worth, faded in and out. I supposed it was true then: your whole life really does flash in front of your eyes before you die.

One image remained fresh for the longest time: Harry's. In the end, it had been all for him. I supposed that my death would make it easier for Harry now. Voldemort would no longer have me to take as bait so that Harry could save me.

With my very last ounce of energy, I lifted the hand that held a dagger and looked at it. I could see myself, hazy because of my failing vision, pale, dirty and bleeding, reflected on the long streak of metal. With one quick motion, I plunged the dagger into my chest.

The image of Harry's face vanished.

If only I could have seen him again...

I had always loved him...

And I always would.

* * *

**A/N:** and thats that. i really hope everyone who read this story enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you so much to all of those who reviewed, it is greatly appreciated! stay tuned for my upcoming stories!

-starlite rose


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